Invictus
by WarrenDSherman
Summary: Iskandar: a Heroic Spirit, a peerless leader, a dauntless fighter, an unparalleled strategist and now a pirate. What? Follow Iskandar's adventures in the One Piece world as he sets sail on the endless oceans, looking for new territories to conquer and new bonds to form. Those in authority tremble at the approach of the King. They will submit, or they will die. [AU, no pairings]
1. End of Conquest

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. Mutual Funds are subject to market risks. Please read your offer documents carefully before investing.**

**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it. **

* * *

**'that's a juicy steak' : mental thought**

**"That steak is juicy!": spoken words**

**'_Weigh, hey and up she rises! Early in the morning!" _: Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote **

* * *

**-=Folio Alpha: End of Conquest=-**

_He stood between Death and Life as between Night and Morning, and thought with a soaring rapture, 'I am not afraid.'_

* * *

War…War never changes.

Wars have been fought for many reasons; they have ranged from Holy Wars fought in the name of religion like the Crusades to Wars of Ideologies, like the numerous Revolutions. Some have been waged to expand an Empire, while some have been started to retrieve a beloved one. They have been fought with armies, with steel, with iron, with guts and mettle, to more recently, guns, bullets and bombs.

No matter the cause of the conflict, or the means by which it is waged…War never changes.

If one is to put it simply, there are three things which remain eternal in every war: the inordinate bloodshed, the dead and the heroes. There are some whose deeds are so remarkable, so extraordinary, that their names are lauded by everyone who hears of them. They are the heroes.

Since the dawn of time, there have been countless heroes, most of who have been forgotten…but there are a rare few whose deeds are so great that they echo through the centuries…their legends are never forgotten and their ideals and qualities are upheld by the future generations as a milestone. When such a hero is so lauded, the crystallization of his life, his deeds, his legends (whether real or exaggerated), his power and his ideals are recorded in the very heart of Gaia, our Earth and their soul ascends to the Throne of Heroes to become a Heroic Spirit.

Every Heroic Spirit is capable of superhuman feats of strength and agility as well as possesses inhuman intelligence and wields weapons of legend, some of which are capable of laying waste to the entire world. This is what made the periodic wars in Fuyuki City so potentially dangerous.

Under the rules of the Grail War, seven Heroes of legend would be summoned down from the Throne of Heroes to serve their masters, and to fight, fight and fight till just one remains, and only then would blood-stained spirit and its master earn the right to wield the Holy Grail: an absolute wish-granting artifact.

Fuyuki City's Grail Wars might have been fought for control of the said artifact, but the end result was still the same: relentless bloodshed, a gigantic body-count and awe-inspiring heroes.

War. War never changes.

These clashes have occurred thrice before, and the latest in the series of Grail Wars is the Fourth. For many long nights, the battles between these Heroic Spirits had ravaged the city, and now, with only a few of the masters and servants remaining alive…the war seems to be drawing to a close.

Look upon the bridge! On an average day, it's a relentless outpouring of traffic and fumes…one that does not abate even at night. But tonight, the bridge is empty. The noise of the rushing cars, the honking horns, the loud music, is silent. It's as if the people understand the gravity of the situation that is about to unfold. A primal fear, a genetic self-preservation instinct drives people away from approaching cataclysm and wisely so. For the battle about to be fought on the bridge is not one for the average man to witness. The sheer aura of the deadly fight would have been enough to bring an untrained person down to his knees.

There are three that stand upon the bridge. The first is a tall man with windswept red hair, sitting atop a powerful black-colored warhorse. His face is resolute and determined and bears the scars of hundreds of battles and appears to be carved from stone. While right now his expression is serious and grim, the laugh lines on his face attest to his tendency to break out into joyous laughter at any moment.

He is dressed in a bronzed breastplate, carved with exquisite craftsmanship. His forearms are protected by bulky vambraces, while a richly decorated mantle is draped upon his broad shoulders. He appears majestic, kingly and powerful…the very image of an Emperor.

He is Iskandar, a storied name with as many titles in as many languages. Born as Alexander of Macedonia, he quickly rose to prominence and carved out one of the largest empires of the ancient world. By the time of his death at the age of 32, he had amassed for himself the titles of Basileus of Macedon, Shahanshah of Persia, Hegemon of Greece, Pharaoh of Egypt as well as the Lord of Asia. He was a Conqueror, a tyrant who lived life to the hilt but yet, he was beloved by his subjects who added their own hopes and dreams to the dream of their king.

That is the man who is Alexander the Great. Sikandar Mahan.

Standing beside him is a small timid boy, barely entering into his late teens. He is hardly five feet tall, and has a pale thin face framed by a curtain of long black hair. He is dressed in a standard school boy outfit, with a buttoned-up shirt, green sweater and slacks.

He is Waver Velvet, a young boy thirsty to prove himself in the eyes of the world, and he is the Heroic Spirit Iskandar's master. By this time though, he has surrendered his command spells and essentially freed his erstwhile servant, and moments ago he has accepted Iskandar's Kingship and declared himself to be one of his subjects.

He is trying his hardest to not cry, to save face in front of his king…yet unbidden, a few tears fall from the corner of his eyes, and he turns away childishly, making Iskandar smile at his antics.

The last one is slim man, of average height. His most distinguishing feature is the excessive golden sheen to his entire physique. From his golden hair, to his full-bodied plate armor, to the few pieces of jewelry that he wears, all shine brightly even in the dim streetlights. His expression is calm and reserved, though a glimmer of respect and excitement can be seen in his bloodshot eyes. His arms are crossed across his chest as he stands seemingly at ease, though the rippling and the shimmering of the air around him attests to an active offense.

This man is Gilgamesh of Uruk, the oldest king and the owner of all of the world's treasures. Created by the gods themselves, he was the first King to claim his dominion over the existing lands and by virtue of which he is lauded and honored as the foremost of all the heroic spirits, earning the title of King of Heroes.

It is here, that a new history will be forged. It is here that two titans of ancient history will engage in hostilities till one lays dead. It is here that claims of Kingships, hopes and dreams will be tested and twisted. The very reality will be overwritten here as the earth itself bows down against the might of the Conqueror and the Eldest King.

Listen! Listen well, and you can hear the lament of the world.

* * *

**Iskandar**

**Fuyuki Bridge**

I must admit, I'm not a fan of dying. Then again, who is? But when it comes to ignominious deaths, I take the cake. The first time around, a lowly fever brought me down, weakening me gradually till I breathed my last in Babylon. This time, I was at my lowest physically and I was practically unarmed, while my opponent, the ancient lord of Babylon barely looked ruffled. It's galling to admit that my death looms imminent with nothing to show for myself, and if I'm honest, it hits my pride something fierce.

Well, nothing to do, except making a good show of it. I might lose, but I was going to make damn well sure that the final charge of the Conqueror will be remembered for eons hereafter. With a sanguine grin, I drew my sword and whispered a few words of encouragement to my faithful steed, Bucephalus. The majestic war-horse whinnied softly and tossed his head back, raring to charge. I took a last look backwards towards my master, as if willing him to understand how much I treasured the bond we shared together. He is a good kid, albeit prone to whining and unmanly despair, but he has the gumption to ride in battle next to me, and that is all that matters, and is more than what I can say for many of the masters that I saw in this war.

Though I suppose the kid could stand to add a few inches to his height. It's just odd to take a scrawny, five foot kid seriously.

Chuckling inwardly, I rapped my heels on Bucephalus' flank and pulled on the reins with one hand while raising my sword aloft in the other. With a loud cry, I charged.

As I charged, the world seemed to fall silent. At that instant, there was nothing in this world to distract me from my target, which gleamed golden further ahead. A red haze settled in my vision, a familiar thrum of anger and determination which would accept nothing but my absolute best. Ahead of me, the air rippled and shone and I felt rather than saw a projectile headed towards me. Instinctively, I slashed and knocked the spear off-course. It fell to the side and exploded, tearing chucks of concrete and rubble from the bridge.

It was then that the barrage started; a remorseless rain of shrapnel and blades, which never let up on its ferocity and intensity. Even with my martial prowess and strength, I was soon hard pressed to defend myself against the attack. A momentary loss in concentration resulted in a sword piercing my side, and just like that, my momentum was lost.

While I flinched from the pain, two more blades embedded themselves in my torso, causing my grip on Bucephalus' rein to slacken. As he slowed, my steed's throat was ripped through by another blade, traveling at high speeds. With a gurgling neigh, Bucephalus collapsed, taking me with him. I cut through the stirrups and leg-straps holding me in place and with another frenzied yell, I kept charging towards the prideful king of Babylon.

Fifty meters. A short sword lodged itself against my shoulder. I ignored it.

Forty meters. A backblast from an exploding projectile nearly tripped me. I kept going.

Thirty meters. Two swords stabbed me through in rapid succession. I gritted my teeth and soldiered on.

Twenty meters. Now I was close enough to see the expression on Gilgamesh's face. To my surprise, there was no disdain, no sneer on his visage. Just cold concentration.

Ten meters. I bared my teeth in a bloody grin and jumped upwards, intent on bringing my sword down upon Gilgamesh in a heavy, overhand strike.

Five meters. I touched lightly upon the ground, both arms holding onto the sword as I began to swing it downwards.

And then nothing. I was face to face with the golden king, yet I seemed to have frozen in place. Turning, I saw two long chains; half emerged from mid-air, wrapped around my arms. No matter what I did, the chains refused to budge even an inch.

"You just keep pulling one oddity after the other, King of Heroes." I laughed, vainly tugging at my restraints.

The cold, red eyes looked impassively at me. "These are the chains of Enkidu, the same chains with which I tied down the Bull of Heaven. These chains can restrain anything with a Divine lineage, effectively. You cannot escape them."

Something snapped within me at that callous statement. All my life I have railed against the trappings of society, norms and accepted beliefs. I have never been content with what I have been told to do by supposedly wiser, older people…and I was not going to start now.

"I am the King of Conquerors! The world was not enough for my ambition! And your pitiful chains won't hold me down!" I declared, and under the immense pressure I was exerting, the chains buckled slightly.

That was all I needed. With a desperate ringing in my ears, and a wild thumping of my heart, I heaved with all the force I had and snapped the chains, bringing down my sword in its long-aborted strike.

Gilgamesh jumped backwards, too late, and managed to avert the worst of my strike, still he received a long slash, starting from his chin and all the way down to his sternum, by the virtue of my blade.

My final effort accomplished, I collapsed down on one knee, smirking in satisfaction at the thin line of blood marring the proud king's face. I was being petty, to be sure, but my bruised pride needed to be assuaged, after all. My final act of defiance done, I waited for the inevitable end. I had wanted to go out with a memorable battle, and this was it.

Ignoring the throbbing pain from my multitude of injuries, I stood up proudly and let my arms fall to the side. The end would likely be swift, though seeing how I had 'dared' to mark the King of Heroes, he might want to make an example of me. He might have wanted to break me, to make me suffer…but little did he know that even when I stood between Life and Death, as between Night and Morning, I could look forward to whatever may come with a song in my ravenous heart and a smile on my face, for I was not afraid.

Gilgamesh seemed to gape at me for a moment, disbelief written clearly in his ruby eyes, before he collapsed in peals of helpless laughter.

What in the name of Hades?

"You were right, King of Conquerors!" He declared imperiously, even as he laughed. To be honest, it was a damned odd sight to see the usually contemptuous monarch to react in such a normal manner. Disconcerting, I tell you.

"Heh, about what?" I asked, resolving to get into the bottom of this perversity. Wasn't he supposed to sneer, and proclaim me to be a usurping dog, before killing me swiftly? This bore further investigation, even despite the fact that I was bleeding out, the longer we spoke.

"When we began our long-awaited battle, you had told me that you have never felt more complete before…that I would see the full might of the King of Conquerors. And you were right! But satisfy my curiosity and tell me, why do you fight?"

"Eh? Didn't we cover this already? You know why I fight. I fight, because I want to regain a mortal body…so I can start my conquest once again." There were other reasons too, of course…but he had no need to know of them.

"You lie. I can see it in your eyes. What is it that you want, King of Conquerors? Wealth? Fame? Whores? No. You had all of that in your lifetime. I see no reason why you might want to repeat all that just for material wants."

I stayed silent. For all his inhumanity and aloofness, the golden king was surprisingly insightful.

"Do you wish to hear what I think? I think that your desire is something more…something greater than a mere worldly pursuit." Here, his lips curled into a familiar sneer. "Or do you fight for something even baser? Something as pitiful as a long dead love?" His eyes flicked once towards my master, who was undoubtedly sitting somewhere far behind. "Or maybe a new one?"

I gritted my teeth. "I do not see how my wishes are your business, King of Heroes."

"You are entitled to keep it a secret, if you wish, but the fact still stands. A person with nothing to fight for does not struggle as you do. A person with no desires does not seek to grasp everything in sight, as you do and a person with no burning ambition in his heart, does not succeed in scoring a hit on me…as you have done."

I grumbled quietly to myself, before looking up. If it was an answer that he wished, it would be an answer that he would get, though perhaps it wouldn't be what he was expecting to hear.

"I fight because I cannot rest. I cannot rest because I have heard the cries of the seagulls in the Nile delta. Every time I looked at them, the hunger in my heart grew. I yearn to travel, to seek the ends of the world and the farthest reach of empires." I spoke, my voice growing louder and firmer with every passing word. "I fight because I crave an adventure, worthy of my skills."

Gilgamesh looked bemused at my outburst. "Your whole life was spent in battle, and you had gone on to distant lands where no man had ever gone before. What greater adventure would you have wanted?"

"Had I lived longer, I would have ventured on even further. When I was a mere child, I had heard the wise men philosophize that the earth was round after all, and I wished to see it for myself. All my life, I dreamed of sailing the endless oceans, claiming every land that I touched upon, till I returned triumphant to my home…to glorious Macedonia. Alas, it was not to be. By the time we crossed Hydaspes, my army had lost its will to fight...so I buried my dreams in the snowy riverbanks, and we set back for home. Soon after, I died, and that was the end of it."

I paused for a moment here, willfully tamping down on the familiar feeling of bitter disappointment and helplessness. I loved my comrades, and the bond we shared was dearer to me than any treasure…but it was still difficult not to feel betrayed by their decision to not go on further. Wiping my forehead with the back of my hand, I continued to speak.

"Now when I was brought back in the Grail War, I realized that I was right after all! Had we continued further east, we would have reached the coast, from where I would have launched mighty triremes and biremes, and would have achieved my cherished dream."

When I fell silent, the King of Heroes grunted, looking sharply at me with his half-lidded eyes.

"Interesting. For all your greed and boasts, you are a rather simple man at heart, aren't you?"

Wait a minute. Was I just called a simpleton by the King of Heroes?

"Hey! What's the big idea of mocking a dying man? And was there a reason for all these questions?"

"Yes, to be sure. If I can recollect, I remember telling you that the Grail belongs to me. It's not a boast, but a fact. The Grail, the Horn of Cornucopia, the Tonsured Skull of Dagobert, the Cintamani and so on…all of these are wish-granting devices, and as the rightful king, I possess all of them."

"Yeah, yeah…I have heard you talk of your so-called ownership more than I have cared to hear, Goldie." I taunted. Not my best taunt, if I must admit. Old Aristotle would have been severely disappointed to hear me stoop to such a childish insult, the old bastard.

Gilgamesh frowned and looked away, arms crossed once more over his chest.

"It seems that you do not fully comprehend what I just said. I _own_ them, so I know that the very concept of an absolute wish-granting device is absolutely ridiculous! Nothing in this world is free, and so, everything has a price. Let me spell it out so even a mongrel like you can understand: The Grail that you fight so desperately for _does not exist!_"

"Does not exist!" I exclaimed in shock, "What do you mean? Weren't we summoned using the power of the Grail?"

"This…Grail, which they speak of-"

He said 'Grail' with such a disgusted expression, as if it hurt his delicate sensibilities to even let the word fall from his tongue. What a diva.

"-I do not know its true purpose, but I do know that it's likely nothing more than a monkey's paw. The price it will exact in return for the wishes would be something that they would have never expected, or wanted to pay."

"Even if what you say is true, where does this leave me? I am defeated; my master has lost his command spells. For all intents and purposes, my campaign is over. The grail and its trappings are someone else's headache now."

"Indeed. Where does this leave you? Let me elaborate. I wish to…acknowledge your determination, and your dreams. While Saber glows with an inner fire, tormented yet unwavering. If her ideals are the raging fire, then she is the moth, and is doomed to be consumed by it, but despite her martyr's beauty, your own brilliance is no less. There are no doubts within your soul, which shines with your own ideals, bolstered by the hopes and dreams of your comrades…but inside your heart, I can see a raging inferno…one that refuses to die down, no matter what it consumes."

I was officially uncomfortable now. Not from the praise, nor from the fact that it came from a man…but from the fact that the man doing the praising was Gilgamesh. It made my skin crawl something awful. I could see that his acknowledgement was genuine, not to mention more than a little awkward. Somehow, that made it a lot worse.

"I told you earlier, that I only had one friend in my lifetime, and that I do not desire another…but maybe, in a different life…" Here, he trailed off softly. "Nevertheless, I am not so petty as to ignore such bravery and determination…so, let me ask you, Iskandar, son of Felip, how should I treat you?"

Sardonically, I smiled and answered, "Treat me as a King ought."

"For my part," said Gilgamesh, "your request will be granted. But is there not something you would ask of me? Ask it."

"Everything is contained in this one request." I answered back calmly, borrowing the same words that a magnificent King had spoken to me, eons ago.

Gilgamesh laughed heartily once more, satisfied at the success of his little charade, and then walked up to me, looking me in the eye. He reached out with his hand to grasp mine, even as the air around us began to shimmer, characteristic of the activation of the Gate of Babylon, the dimensional repository of Gilgamesh's treasures.

As his palm closed over mine, I felt a weight settle down in the center as he wrapped my fingers around it. Within moments, when he had moved away a few steps, I opened my fist to examine the object nestled within.

It was a simple ring, plainly wrought in red gold, carved with a flowing script all around it. It was designed to resemble a thousand-headed serpent, whose numerous heads held onto a small clear jewel which sparked with a divine light.

"This is the Varmudra." Gilgamesh spoke, "the personal Miracle wrought by the ancient gods of the Hindukush. In the hands of gods, its power is limitless, but in hands of mortals like you and me…it merely grants a single wish, at a price."

"What makes it different from the other objects that you mentioned?" I asked perfunctorily, my mind engrossed by the beauty of the ring lying in my hand.

"It might accept a price, but the wish is granted without any malice. You will get exactly what your heart desired, without extracting too steep a cost. The choice is yours. I have given you the ring; do what you will with it."

It was a big decision, a momentous one to be sure…it was something that had the potential to alter my fate and to change my life in a way that I could have never imagined. Ideally, I should have mulled over that decision, weighing the pros and cons judiciously before arriving at a conclusion, but with me being me, as well as the fact that I was still losing blood at a prodigious rate…it was honestly a no-brainer for me.

"Oi, Goldie! How do you activate this thing anyway?" I yelled out, once again grinning inwardly at the irritated twitch on the golden king's indifferent mien.

"You have to invoke your divinity, mongrel, and then you have to offer your blood as sacrifice when you state your wish. Though seeing your current state, just holding onto the ring would be enough." He retorted.

"Hm." I grunted thoughtfully, and took a moment to phrase my invocation as well as my wish. Clearing my throat, I began to speak.

"_I, Alexander the Third, Son of Philip, hereby invoke the name of my divine father, Zeus-Ammon, the Lord of Skies, Thunder and Justice. Upon your name and your authority, I call on the divine spark hidden in me to shine forth and illuminate me._"

I was no mage, yet I was familiar enough with the process that I understood that my invocation was similar to an aria, an activation phrase…and sure enough, instead of magical circuits, the divine essence within my legend began to shine forth, casting an eerie glow around my body. Bathed in that glow, the ring in my hand began to resonate, and the jewel set within seemed to glow brighter and brighter. The air began to smell thickly of ozone, and a strange peacefulness set in upon me. Evidently, the invocation was successful.

Clasping the ring against my bloodied chest, I slowly began to articulate my fondest wish.

"_By the virtue of the power of the mighty Zeus-Ammon, as well as the power of the pantheon of Aigyptos, grant me this wish: I wish to set sail upon the endless seas, to roam the world with a hungry heart. I wish to embark on adventures untold, the echoes of which will be heard through the ages. I wish once more for the bonds of companionship and for friends that I can rely on. If you can grant me my wish, then I wish to live once again, carefree and cheerful, trampling all who would dare to stand in my way. I wish to be free._"

As my voice died down, the heavy atmosphere seemed to coalesce around me, causing me to stumble from the sheer oppressive force. With me at the epicenter, a fierce squall began to blow, howling and raging around me. Above me, the clouds began to darken and rumble, as forks of lightning began to thunder across the overcast skies. Suddenly feeling weaker than ever before, I collapsed down on my knees, holding onto my sword like a lifeline. The shroud of the storm seemed to hem me in ever closer, as I tried to regain my bearing. Without warning, a bright bolt of light slammed down from the heavens upon me, wracking my body with untold pain. I screamed out in pain and anger and a small amount of trepidation even as my frayed nerves overloaded with pain.

The last thing that I saw before me was myself, looking somehow more complete, grinning bemusedly down at me. At this strange sight, my mind finally shut down as I passed into blessed unconsciousness and then I knew more.

* * *

**Loguetown, the Day of Pirate Rogers' Execution**

Strangely enough, it was music that I woke up to. My body was wracked in too much pain for me to do much else, so I let my eyes remain closed and listened.

'_Dress me up in me oilskins and jumper, No more on the docks I'll be seen.__  
__Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates, I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green__.'_

The singer had a rather rough voice, fierce and gravelly, tempered no doubt by extensive time spent with wine cups. As he sang, he was soon joined by other voices…younger, less raspy, but all of them carried the same timbre of melancholy and grief. The context and the meaning of the song was lost on me, even though I could understand the words well enough, as they were rather similar to the language being used during the Fuyuki City Grail War. Slowly, I began to stand up, ignoring the pain erupting in my legs as I devoted all my concentration to the song.

'_Oh in Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell, where sailormen go if they don't go to hell__  
__Where the weather is fair and the sea-kings do play, and the cold coast of Drum-land is far far away'_

Evidently, it was a mourning song that was being sung. In my day, in Macedonia, we had tales of Elysium and of the Isles of the Blest: Rewards that a soldier or a sailor might earn by doing his duty to his best ability. Everytime we set sail in our triremes, we would offer prayers to Poseidon so that he may carry our souls to Hades, if we were to die at sea. Later in Egypt, it was the same…except now the prayers were to Sobek, the God of the Nile, and the reward was ever-lasting life in service to Osiris. This Fiddler's Green could be no less.

As I listened, somehow I managed to drag my feet under me, and sat groggily on my knees, fighting off the waves of nausea which threatened to overwhelm. My breath came in short gasps and it seemed as if all the breath had been driven from my lungs. My blood pounded in my ears as I finally gave in to the urge and began to retch, not even seeing where I was emptying my stomach.

'_Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale, and fish jump aboard with a swish of their tail.__  
__Where you lie at your leisure - there's no work to do, and the skipper's below__making __tea for the crew'_

I let out a painful chuckle, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Even though the retching felt disgusting, it still relived some of the ache I was feeling, the diminished pain making me confident enough to open my eyes.

The first thing that I saw was the endless blue sea, bringing a tired smile to my lips. Taking stock of my surroundings, I noticed that I was sitting up on a beach. All around me, white sand glittered in the bright sunlight, nearly blinding me and forcing me to close my eyes once again. Seeing that I was in no immediate danger of falling over, I breathed in and listened to the achingly familiar cries of the seagulls and the haunting music being sung by the unknown singer.

"_Oh I don't want a harp or a halo, not me, just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea.__  
__And I'll play the fiddle as we sail along, with the wind in the rigging to sing me this song"_

All of a sudden, the singer ceased his heartfelt song and cried out, presumably pointing towards me.

"Look here lads! Is that a big brute of a man by the beach or have I drank too much grog already?"

"Oi!" I rasped out, feeling the need to defend myself, "I'm not a brute, and even if I was, at least I am not the one who is drinking while the sun is still up." I pointed out rightfully.

"Bah." He scoffed. "And why wouldn't I be drinking, eh? The marine bastards finally got their hands on Old Roger, and now they will lop his head off. What else can I do, but drink?"

My head buzzed feebly with so many questions. Who were these marine bastards? Who was this Old Roger? And why was he going to be executed? Letting out a painful shudder of breath, I wrenched my eyes open and tried to stagger up.

"Whoa now, you look pretty beat. Had a run-in with some unsavory characters?" The stranger questioned, walking towards me, his steps crushing the sand and shells beneath him, which protested with a pleasant crackle.

I chuckled in spite of myself, thinking back on Gilgamesh, the King of Babylon. "Unsavory Characters? Yeah, you could say that." I remarked, taking in the sight of the stranger.

He was a tall, well-muscled man with broad shoulders and a fierce face, framed with strawberry blonde hair. He wore round, wire-rimmed eyeglasses which did nothing to hide the long scar tracing over his right eye. He was dressed in a simple shirt, albeit with an ornate collar, and in tiger-striped knee-length shorts and sandals. Perhaps the most unusual feature about him was his elaborate beard, dyed black and embattled all over his jaw, lending him an intimidating appearance. While his eyes were kind, if wary, and he appeared to be a pleasant enough, yet I could feel the underlying thrum of the vast power contained within this man.

If I had to compare, his aura was nearly a match for mine if I was relying solely on my physical strength. Though I was not sure if I was even a heroic spirit anymore, the pain in my body felt all too real with no signs of healing, and neither did I have the natural inclination to turn into my spirit form when wounded. It didn't prove anything, but it was a mental checklist for me to test it out, lest I be caught unawares in this new world.

Speaking of which.

"Lend me a hand, will you?" I asked as politely as I could, given the circumstances, setting my jaw firmly against the pain that seemed to rail against the iron walls of my tolerance. "I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors."

The man laughed as he gripped my shoulders firmly and supported me as I stood up. "Is that so? With such a lofty title, it is surprising that I have never heard of you. Anyway, I am Silvers Rayleigh, First Mate of the Oro Jackson, also called by some as the Dark King."

"So you are a king too, eh?" I remarked, looking askance at him from half-closed eyes, idly noting the presence of two boys closing in behind us, one had distinctive wine-red hair and a pleasant face, while the other had equally unique pale-blue hair and a funny looking round, red nose. "Then treat me as a king deserves. I promise to return the favor."

The now-named Silvers merely laughed and clapped me on my back, taking a swig from his ale-mug. "Of course! Of course! Though right now, King or no, you need a healer badly. Luckily for you, I know of one who isn't celebrating or mourning Rogers' impending demise. Let's get you checked out and then we can sit down by the fire, and fill our bellies with rum and our minds with stories. Then, you can tell me about yourself."

Having said his piece, he threw my arm over his shoulder and propped my injured side up as we slowly walked towards the doctor of his acquaintance, while the two boys: his erstwhile companions walked close behind, looking curiously at us both.

This was how two kings met, and though neither of us knew it, the world would change irrevocably because of that.

* * *

**A/N:**

**So, this story has been in my mind for a while now. I was tired of reading Nasuverse stories starring only Shirou or Ilya or Saber...and to be honest, as badass as Shirou can be, he doesn't compare to the magnificence of a real king, which brings in my favorite character of the series : Iskandar. His death felt too forced to me, and he was underutilized, most likely because Gilgamesh and Arturia HAD to survive till Fate/Stay Night. This story gives me a chance to explore the further growth in power as well as stature in Iskandar, had he lived through Fate/Zero. **  
**This story begins with the death of Gol D Roger, and for a while Iskandar will hang around with Silvers and Shanks and occasionally Buggy, till he learns the ropes of the new world he is in. Then, he will branch off to have his own adventures, some which overlap with other major characters, and some inspired by historical pirates as well as Iskandar's own feats. Hopefully, this is something that you will enjoy. **

**Character/Object Backgrounds:**

**1\. Iskandar aka Alexander of Macedon aka Alexander the Great: Son of Philip, though he styled himself as the Son of Zeus, yet one of the world's finest military strategists and an inspiring leader. within a few short decades, he carved out an empire which spanned most of the known world at the time. He had a dream to see the end of the world, which remained unfulfilled as his beleaguered and exhausted army rebelled. **

**2\. Gilgamesh aka The King of Heroes aka Divine King of Babylon: The subject of the world's oldest written epic. Semi-divine in stature. Had a companion, Enkidu, who he regarded as a friend and an equal. After many adventures, the two succeeded in angering many gods, and earned the wrath of the goddess Ishtar, who sent the Divine Bull to ravage Babylon. Enkidu and Gilgamesh killed it, but as a punishment, Enkidu was killed in return. This caused Gilgamesh to despair and abandon his kingdom to learn the meaning of life. **

**3\. Cintamani: A wish-granting/magical gemstone mentioned in both, Buddhist as well as Hindu Mythology.**

**4\. Varmudra: a magical ring worn by Gods and Goddesses in Hindu Mythology, most notably Durga. **

**5\. Horn of Cornucopia: a symbol of luck and harvest and plenty in Graeco-Roman Mythology.**

**6\. Holy Grail: a mystical object in the grail romances, possesses similar properties as the Horn of Cornucopia. Later stories claim it to have either been used in the last supper, or by Joseph of Arimathea to collect the blood dripping from the wound caused by the Longinus Spear. **

**7\. Skull of Dagobert: A relic of the ancient Merovingian king. Said to bring luck and prosperity. Subject to many cults and legends. **

**8\. Zeus-Ammon: a blend of the traditional Zeus and Amun-Ra of the Egyptians. **

**9\. Aigyptos: Greek name for Egypt. **

**10\. Trivia: The song being sung by Silver's Rayleigh is called the Fiddler's Green and is a popular sea shanty. The Corries as well as the Dubliners have sung their versions of this folk shanty, to my knowledge. **

**The words exchanged about how a king should be treated are inspired by an actual exchange that occurred between King Porus and Alexander after the battle of Hydaspes. Porus was a proud king who refused to relinquish his self-respect, despite being defeated. Impressed, Alexander lets him remain king and makes him a greek Satrap (governer). **

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Well, that's enough chatter. Read and Review, or Zeus will smite you.

Enjoy!


	2. Long Live the King!

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. Mutual Funds are subject to market risks. Please read your offer documents carefully before investing.**

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**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it.**

**'That's a juicy steak': mental thought**

**"That steak is juicy!": spoken words**

**'**_**Weigh, hey and up she rises! Early in the morning!":**_** Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote**

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**-=Folio Beta: Long Live the King=-**

'_In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud.__  
__Under the bludgeonings of chance, my head is bloody, but unbowed.'_

* * *

As I recovered from my near-fatal injuries, I learned two important things. One, I still healed faster than a regular human, and with proper medication, I could regenerate very quickly indeed. Two, Physicians will be my death one day.

I remember lying on my deathbed in Babylonia, weakened and feverish, and all I wanted was some soothing wine to slake the thirst my aching throat. But of course, seeing how these Doctors think themselves so great that they cannot listen to what the dying man is seeing. Egoistic, self-righteous bastards.

'I am dying with the help of too many Physicians', I had remarked as I had lain wasting away, and I was absolutely right. Like, right now…

"Mrrph! Bmmt Imm fmmmlng mmmch bmmtr nw!" I mumbled with my mouth stuck sideways on the filthy floor, slavering under the boot of this particular old doctor.

Old? Oh, who am I kidding? She is a witch made flesh; a vile sadistic hag that survives on the misery and tears of her victims.

"Hah! I am the doctor here boy! And I am the one who will decide when you are feeling better!" the vile hag cackled, grinding her heeled boots on the back of my head with each pointed exclamation.

Giving up the ghost, I slackened and craned my neck to stare beseechingly at Silvers, who looked entirely too amused at my predicament.

Grinning, he approached us, waving his palms placatingly. "Come on Kureha! Grant the poor man a break. Didn't you see how injured he was when I brought him in? Cut him some slack!" he implored.

Kureha seemed unimpressed, judging by the insistent kicking of my head by the aforementioned boots.

"I should know. I treated this idiot after all. Thirty two lacerations! Nineteen stab wounds, six of them nearly-fatal! Third-degree burns on at least five percent of his skin! A collapsed lung! A punctured liver! Seven shattered bones! It's a miracle that he is alive."

I winced slightly on hearing the description of my injuries. The King of Heroes was a dangerous opponent indeed.

Silvers smiled jovially and threw an arm around the sadistic witch and rightfully pointed out, "I know, I know…but why add a cracked skull and a concussion to that list?"

Anything that he could have said further was cut short when his arm was twisted suddenly and he too was kicked down, joining me on the floor.

Heh. What a sight the two of us made. Two kings, brought down low on the ground, crushed underfoot by a shriveled husk of a woman. Not quite the scene one imagines when one thinks of a King, lying on the floor with a woman on top.

Cue disgusting mental images.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not one to insult women, nor am I so shallow as to judge someone just by their appearance, but in this case, my first assumptions were totally justified.

After Silvers had helped me up and led me down the narrow quays towards a ramshackle, tattered cabin, which he claimed hosted one of the best doctors the world had ever seen. I was more skeptic of the claim, but beggars couldn't be choosers, so I braced myself for the worst and went in. The fact that the two boys, whose names were Shanks and Buggy, had chosen to stay outside should have clued me in to the disaster waiting within.

The name of the doctor was Kureha, who usually lived far up north in a place called Drum Island. The only reason that she had chosen to venture south was to witness the historic event taking place: The Execution of Pirate Roger. She was, by her own admission, an astounding 117 years old, and had the wrinkles and saggy skin to show for it. Despite that, she wore clothes which would have suited someone a hundred years younger than her, all bright colors and revealing cuts. She even had a pierced navel, and a ring to go with it.

Even this would have been bearable, if not for the fact that she absolutely detested when her patients tried to escape her dubious care, which brings me to where I am now: decked out on the floor beside a fellow king, while the vicious hag cackled and struck poses as she stood on our heads.

After what seemed like hours, she finally declared me to be healed and then shuffled us off outside and slammed the door on our faces. Silvers and I stared bemusedly at each other for a moment before we burst out in helpless laughter at the absurdity of it all.

* * *

Once outside from the narrow, dank cabin, I breathed in the fresh salty air of the sea, finally unrestricted by the blood clogging up my lungs. It was nostalgic and seemed to wash away all the aches and wears from my body and my heart, cleansing me from within. I opened my eyes and gazed upon the glimmering sea, noting all the signs of an incoming storm. It was only mid-morning, yet the skies had begun to darken ominously, while the waves had begun climbing up noticeably. The absent noise of the seagulls was yet another giveaway. It seemed oddly appropriate.

As Silvers barked a few short orders to the two boys and sat down himself to build a camp-fire, I took the opportunity to assess myself.

Physically, I seemed fine. I was still dressed in my breastplate and the rest of my armaments. Even my cape was intact, albeit tattered and frayed around the edges. I rolled my shoulders experimentally and went through a few sword forms, unarmed. Satisfied with my mobility, I drew my thoughts inward, towards my Noble Phantasms. Yes. Phantasms, in plural.

Gilgamesh's magic ring had apparently united my soul, coalescing the entity dwelling in the Throne of Heroes and the copy that had been summoned for the Holy Grail War. The two had merged, which accounted for me seeing myself in the eye of that storm. Effectively, that meant that I was no longer restricted by my Rider Class. I once again had access to the wide range of abilities that I could draw upon. Having been trained in the martial arts since childhood, I was skilled enough to serve as a Saber, a Lancer and a Rider, of course. With my reality marble, I could also be a Caster, albeit a non-traditional one. My bouts with anger and bloody-minded determination also qualified me to be a Berserker; though that was the role I was least fond of. The memories of Tyre were still clear as day in my mind.

With merely a thought, I could summon my spatha: The Sword of the Kupriotes, as well as my kopis: The Etruscan Blade. My magnificent spear was once again available to me as was my Linothorax riding armor. I felt complete, for lack of a better word. Unfortunately, the Gordius Wheel was still destroyed, erased from existence by Saber's dangerous attack. It was a loss, most definitely, but not a crippling one. At worst, its lack would just reduce my mobility, but in the larger scheme of things, I could compensate for it.

Grunting in satisfaction, I sat down cross-legged upon the sandy beach, and ignored Silvers' curious stare as I closed my eyes. In battle, I could summon my Reality Marble nearly instantaneously, with a single thought. But now, in peace, it was more difficult to call upon my soul. It's not that odd when you think about it. My soul is that of a warrior, a leader, and the battlefield is its home, not a peaceful sandy beach.

Drawing my thoughts inward, I began to think about my companions. One by one, I began to mentally call out to them, drawing them to me. Hephaestion, Perdiccas, Mithrenes, Neoptolemus and all the rest. I thought upon their names, and the adventures and the battles that I had embarked upon with each of them. Slowly, like the drawing of a curtain at a play, the vast empty plain of my Reality Marble began to be revealed to me.

Something was wrong though. Normally the spirits of my companions dwelt forever ready for battle within my reality marble, but not today. Today there were no gleaming ranks of the Heavy Cavalry, or of the Thessalians. Thracians, Prodromoi and the Paeonians were nowhere to be seen. Even my ever-reliable Hypaspists and Peltasts were absent. Despairing, I fell to my knees and laid there motionless, not willing to accept what was in front of me. My army was gone, my reality marble was empty.

No, wait. Not entirely. With a faint hope in my heart, I noticed the rising plumes of a fire off in the distance, the very size and quantity of the smoke attesting to numerous fires clustered together. Like in a camp.

Grinning in trepidation and hope, I clambered over the sandy dunes and emerged on top of a particularly large one till I beheld my army once more. They were as magnificent as I remembered. Horses neighed and tossed their mighty necks as their riders patrolled the outer perimeters of the camp. The ones who were free from such duties sharpened their swords and lances while the archers fletched their arrows with cheap chicken feathers nearby. The cooks labored over their pots of stew while the others sat around their fires and talked and boasted and drank and sang.

It was such a familiar scene that I could almost weep for nostalgia and joy. Eager for a closer look, I walked forwards, wanting to reunite with my companions, my conquering army. As I reached the outer reaches of the camp, I began to notice smaller details that had escaped my attention, like the crude fortification, the central pavilion: the large tent which doubled up as a planning room as well as my own residence, and my elite soldiers guarding it. Their shields were down and the swords they carried were sheathed. Though they stood at attention, their body language and bearing suggested that they currently had no pressing duties to attend to.

To my consternation, my entrance into the camp was not welcomed; worse, it wasn't even noticed. Not even a mercenary skirmisher raised his hand in greeting to me. It was mystifying. It seemed as if I might as well be a phantom, for all they noticed me. It took me only a few seconds to realize what was going wrong, though the knowledge didn't ease the dull ache in my heart.

When my soul had descended from the Throne of Heroes and had departed for this new land, it brought with itself the crystallization and realization of my ideals…but my name, my deeds, my accomplishments…all those things that made me 'Alexander the Great' were now non-existent. I was the only one who carried those faded dreams within my heart, and so, my legend was lost. Without it, I was just Iskandar, a Heroic Spirit dwelling within a mortal flesh. Even as I mourned the loss of my name, I felt a rush of love and respect for my army. Even though I was no longer the same man that commanded them through the flat plains of Persia and Mesopotamia, yet they still didn't relinquish their bonds with me. They still waited within my Reality Marble, waiting patiently for my arrival…the arrival of Alexander the Great! Truly, the bonds between us transcended all barriers of time and space.

All was not lost yet…all I needed to do was to build a new legend; forge new bonds with new comrades, and they would all rise again, harkening to the banners of their King. I could almost imagine it, the accolades, the drunken revelries, the Dionysian celebrations and the thunderous roar of my army as they chanted my name: Iskandar! Iskandar! Iskandar!

"Iskandar! Iskandar! Wake up already, you dozy fool!"

Now, that wasn't something anyone in my army would dare to say.

"I can sense by the change in your breathing that you are now awake, so come on up and lend me a hand…the food won't cook itself!" Silvers' gravelly voice grated as he nudged me with his toe. It was annoying, but not enough for me to take affront. Grumbling good-naturedly, I stretched my hands and stood up.

My meditative trance had lasted longer than I had expected. The incumbent storm was almost upon us now, causing the wind around us to pick up in speed even as our little camp-fire flickered bravely against the onslaught. The two boys were back and had come back bearing drinks and other such victuals. The red-haired one, Shanks, was arguing childishly with the clownish boy Buggy, over some inane question as they unpacked the heavy wooden boxes. Ignoring the bickering of the two, I rummaged around in one of the boxes and pulled out a large flask of dark, brackish rum. Curiously, I pulled the cork open and took a hearty swig. I let the drink swill about in my mouth a couple of times before swallowing it whole. Right on cue, a moment later, I let out a loud, lingering belch.

Ah, that felt good.

The two boys were looking at me with a kind of morbid curiosity, while Silvers looked merely amused, his ever-present smirk set firmly on his face.

"This wasn't quite on my mind when I asked for help, you know?" he rebuked mildly, as if hoping to shame in into working.

Hah. I snorted mentally. Like that was ever going to work.

I grinned in response and sat myself down in front of the man, crossing my legs under me and resting my palms on my knees. I thought about how to breach the nature of my existence to the man sitting across me. I racked my mind and ran through a couple of scenarios to break it gently, before discarding them as being too slow and ineffectual. I decided to plunge straight in, if he couldn't believe me, it wouldn't be through any fault of mine.

Taking another long pull of the rum, I looked up into his eyes and said, "So, Dark King," I put a special emphasis on his title, addressing him as an equal, "I suppose you have some questions. Things like, who I am, what am I doing here, and so on. "

"That's putting it mildly, but essentially yes."

I scratched my beard idly before remarking, "I'll put it simply then: I'm not from this world.", and looked upon Silvers curiously, in anticipation of his reaction.

Damn that smug man. He merely shrugged and took a swig from his own bottle. "I've heard stranger things. "

"I'm sure you have." I replied dryly. "I am as I introduced myself; Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, and I used to be a leader of great renown till I met my match. Impressed, he offered me a single wish, and on my wishing for an endless adventure, he invoked an ancient magical artifact which sent me here. And that's about it." I summed up, glossing over and falsifying a few details, which weren't all that relevant here anyway.

"Endless adventure? You can find that aplenty here. Half the world is still undiscovered or inaccessible, and is just ripe for taking for one who dares." He said, a faint pride stirring in his eyes.

"From your tone, I take it that you were one who did?"

He let out a bark of laughter, which was more bitter than humorous. "Yeah, you are an insightful one, aren't you? Yeah…you could say that. My captain, me and the crew, we did sail farther and discover more than anyone could imagine. But my adventuring days are now over."

"Why?" I felt the need to ask. "You seem to be in the prime of your life, and I can't see any crippling injuries upon you."

"Hmm. How do I say this? Pirate Roger, the man I talked about earlier? He was my captain, the captain of the Oro Jackson, the finest ship that I have ever sailed on. Under him, I have had my eyes opened. I was the first that he recruited when he set upon his journey, and both of us achieved what we set out for. Riches! Fame! Respect! Everything that one could ask for, we had. And now, later today, he will be executed…and the rest of my dreams die with him."

I listened intently, and strangely enough, I felt disappointed, disappointed at the fact that I was not able to meet a man as enigmatic and charismatic as the Pirate Roger. He seemed like the exact sort of person that I could get along with, reminiscent of men like Darius or Diogenes or Porus. I remember the bittersweet regret I felt when I heard of Darius' murder, he had been my bitterest enemy whom I had chased for the entirety of Persia, but he always was a man that I could respect. It would seem that this Pirate Roger could have been another.

"Understandable." I acknowledged the man's visible sorrow with a nod, knowing that anything more would only embarrass him. "Let me make you an offer...I know nothing about this world, and know no one who could help, except you. Now, even if you no longer wish for a life of adventure, you still will need a place to live in…a home, perhaps? So my offer is this: Help me learn about this world and accompany me till you reach your preferred destination."

Silvers said nothing; his head bowed in thought as he idly stirred the merrily bubbling cauldron of the stew, which the two boys must have put up while we talked. Turning my gaze, I noticed the two sitting by the pier, dispiritedly munching on apples as they gazed out towards the churning ocean. I pensively studied them to while away my time before being startled by a sudden burst of hearty laughter.

"Surely you jest! An 'offer' implies that there is going to be an equal exchange, and your 'offer' is anything but. Tell me, King of Conquerors…what's in it for me?"

I blinked in honest surprise.

"You get to travel with me as an equal. It's not an honor that I bestow on just anyone, you know? Besides, as you said yourself, this world is still uncharted and dangerous. With me around, you can be assured of your safety."

"And what makes you think that I have need of your protection? I have seen and done things that you couldn't possibly imagine. And to be honest, I am somewhat skeptical of your claims about being a great warrior. The wounds that I saw earlier, say otherwise." He taunted evenly, his eyes never leaving mine. "You say that I should be grateful to travel with you. I say otherwise. If you dare, then prove me wrong. Prove that you are as great as you claim to be."

Gone was the jovial, cheerful man from before. His body language practically screamed defiance and belligerence, while his warm stare was replaced with one far colder than before, the scar standing out even more in the stony face.

This was something that I was familiar with, the inevitable show of force. When I first started out too, the Hellenic league and the other Greek states wouldn't give time of the day. It wasn't until that I broke into their cities and dragged them down from their high horses that they began to take me seriously. As Waver would have put it, I was the new kid on the block and I had to earn my reputation to be accepted at face value.

"Very well. Let's settle it like warriors of old. Name your terms for the duel, Dark King." I responded, rising to the challenge.

"Hm, we fight with swords. Do your worst." He remarked with a grim smile as he drew his sword. It was a long, straight edged sword, nearly half as tall as Rayleigh himself. The most unique thing about the sword was its large, round pommel, other than that the sword seemed to be innocuous, albeit well-crafted and extremely sharp. Idly, I noted the two boys to retreat to a safer distance, watching the two of us with wide eyes.

In response, I too summoned my favored blade, the Sword of the Kupriotes. It was the sword that I had wrenched from the dead hands of a Persian general after I had defeated him and had captured the Island of Cyprus. Later, the grateful populace had adorned the sword and had reforged it to be even stronger and sharper than before. This was the sword that I used for the remainder of my life, replacing the old Etruscan Kopis that had been gifted to me by my father.

A slight upturning of the corners of my mouth was all the warning I gave before I charged the arrogant Dark King. To his credit, he spotted my swing and ducked low under it, but the slight surprise in his eyes attested to my speed throwing him off-balance. Now grinning, I stabbed my sword towards his heart, only to be deflected by his own blade. Parrying the strike, I once again struck, this time aiming for his kidneys, or his liver...I wasn't picky about it, though he dodged my attack by jumping backwards and used my overstretched position to deliver a jarring strike on my sword with the flat of his blade. It was only experience and strength which led me to keep hold on my weapon.

"Not bad. Your speed is surprising." He complimented, though I wasn't in mood to hear any of it.

In response, I locked our blades together and drew him close, before lashing out with a straight kick towards his torso, followed by a punch from my free arm. The kick was avoided, merely grazing him, and popping a few buttons on his loose shirt. The follow-up punch however was more effective, catching him squarely on his jaw. I could feel a few teeth give under the force of my blow. It was satisfying. Visceral, but satisfying.

It seemed as if Silvers had lost his remaining humor after this strike. His eyes gleamed with a hidden malice, before widening slightly. My next few strikes were avoided with ease, almost as if he could read my movements before I made them. With a clever positioning, he knocked me backwards and went on the offensive.

The broadsword is a very interesting weapon. It gives the user range, and the heavy weapon makes for devastating, crushing blows. It's commonly derided as the weapon of the unskilled, built for violent hacking and slashing. No one had informed Rayleigh about that fact apparently. He skillfully used his clumsy weapon to force me on the defensive, unleashing a well-practiced series of strikes, each as deadly and crippling as the next. Unfortunately for him, I had had enough of a practice fighting against enemies who favored the broadsword.

I kept dodging and dancing just out of his range, taunting him physically to just reach forward a bit more. Soon enough, I succeeded. Snarling in silent frustration, Silvers stabbed his sword forwards, intent on piercing me through, and when I moved back just a bit he pivoted himself on his knees and lunged. That was the chance I was waiting for. As soon as he did, I moved away from the path of the blade with some clever footwork and brought my elbow down upon the blade, intent on breaking it.

Moments before I could deliver the shattering elbow strike, Silvers glanced incredulously at me even as his sword gleamed dully, a grey sheen running through the metal. To my surprise, the blade remained unscathed, absorbing my blow effortlessly, though I noticed that Silvers' grip slackened slightly under my onslaught. Reverse slashing with the blade, he pushed me away and twisted so he was facing my once again.

"Well, well, I am impressed! You do live up to your name Iskandar!" he exclaimed as he laughed heartily, hefting his sword across his shoulders in a relaxed stance.

His praise seemed genuine enough, but it lit a slow-burning anger within me. Who did he think he was? He was no Gilgamesh, nor was I dog. I was not going to accept his compliments and let bygones be bygones. He chose to begin this duel, but it would end when I wished it.

Glaring, I struck at him, again, again and again. My swings seemed to gain in speed and strength, fueled by the raging anger within me. Silvers was dodging or parrying every one of the attacks, though his forehead was getting damp with sweat. I could sense his unease, and I thrived in it. I lashed out with a decapitating swing, followed by a disemboweling strike, then a turn and a slash towards the femoral arteries and reversing my swing to strike against the tendons. My assault was as vicious as it was unrelenting.

Inevitably, his defense wavered slightly and allowed me an opening to inflict an injury on his shoulder and without hesitating, I took advantage of his momentary weakness to charge, my sword held at shoulder-level, intent on delivering a piercing stab which would skewer his heart. At the very last moment, he brought his sword up to block mine, the blade gleaming gray as before. To his surprise and mine, his sword shattered into a thousand pieces though succeeding in nullifying all my momentum.

Retreating, I put some distance between us, keeping my sword in a ready stance as I looked calmly upon Silvers, my earlier anger now drained. Outward I was calm, though mentally, my head was buzzing with so many unexplained questions. Regardless of the answers, it was obvious that Silvers was a rare and capable swordsman, dueling me on even grounds. From what I could read of his stances, he had not fought actively for the past couple of years which would account for the occasionally sloppy footwork. Even the alcohol would have dulled his reflexes and mental-processes somewhat.

If all went well, he would make for a formidable sparring partner. I could not wait to challenge him again once he was back to full strength.

Dropping his broken sword upon the white sands, Silvers glanced sinisterly at me, his face shadowed while his eyes behind the glasses gleamed with an inner-fire. He turned his gaze up to look me in the eye, a fierce scowl on his face.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, his voice laced with an indescribable power. "This ends now!" he said, the entirety of his fierce, inhuman stare fixed upon me.

I could feel a weight settle on me, trying to bow me down. The invisible pressure seemed to press against my head, pounding on it mercilessly. It seemed as if cold, sharp knives were stabbing into my head, trying to cut out all my will and strength, reducing me to little better than a gawking, servile simpleton. The air around me grew thicker, showing me visions of despair and hopelessness, telling me to simply surrender and then all will be well. To accept servitude and allow the unknown force dominance and then I would live.

The pit of slow-burning fire flared into an inferno.

I would sooner cut my own head off than submit to another's rule. So long as I breathed, no man could claim dominance over me. I have risen to my heights through dangers that would have broken any lesser man. I have ventured into the unknown and dared to achieve what was thought unachievable…dared to dream what was thought undreamable. I pitted all my will and strength against the incumbent lethargy which pressed down all around me. I gritted my teeth and gathered myself together, mentally preparing myself. I had never given in to foolish taunts and threats, and I was not going to start now. All my life, I have been dealt losing hands by the Fates, yet I have smiled and thrown them down and played with my own deck…disdaining the Fates themselves.

"I am the King of Conquerors! The first and the last! There have been none before me, nor any after me…and certainly no one above me.", I declared proudly, feeling the invisible pressure dissipate into nothingness.

Opening my eyes, the first thing that I noticed was Rayleigh kneeling down, and his head bowed as he visibly panted. Surprised, I looked towards the two boys who were stretched out on the ground, drooling from the corners of their mouths. Intrigued, I turned my head here and there as saw similar sights. All over the beach, sailors, fishermen and drunken vagrants had slumped down on the sands, knocked unconscious.

Before I could dwell on this interesting fact further, Silvers looked up at me with an enigmatic expression. Still kneeling, he spoke, "You have demonstrated your strength, just as you said you would. I am honored to travel with you, King."

I grinned in response and helped him up to his feet. In an ironic twist, our situations were now reversed. "See! Was that so hard? Now once we have brushed the rust off you and got you back in fighting shape, we will have a rematch. No holding back on either of our parts."

He smiled a sincere, jovial smile that I had quickly grown accustomed to. "I look forward to that day then."

"It's settled then! Though I expect an explanation on what just happened here. I have commanded absolute obedience from lesser people before too, but this was on another scale altogether!"

Silvers just smirked, "All in good time."

"I'll hold you to that then."

With that, I sheathed my sword and broke open another bottle of rum, passing it to Silvers after a long pull. Silvers accepted it half-heartedly, still lost in his thoughts. We would have likely stood silently on that beach for many more minutes, thinking and reflecting on what our duel had revealed about both of us had it not been for Shanks, the redhead boy, who stirred awake with a pained groan.

He looked nervously at me, though he tried to hide it as best as he could and then looked towards the distant horizon. His eyes widened comically as he realized the passage of time. Panicking, the slapped the blue-headed boy awake, even pinching the bulbous red nose when he wouldn't.

"Rayleigh! It's almost time for…you know. Aren't you coming?" he asked Silvers, maintaining a healthy distance between me and him. I found his skittishness amusing.

Silvers sighed and shook his head, "No. I want to remember Roger the way he was in life. Proud, defiant, unchained. It would break my heart to see him now. You boys go. Pay your respects. I'll be here, drinking a toast to his memory."

Shanks looked pensive at that, but then he visibly shook himself and spoke, "I'm going to go anyway, I feel like I owe it to him somehow. Buggy is coming too. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider."

"I'm sure, brat. Roger and I made our peace when he first surrendered to the Marines. I do not need to see the actual act to understand the fact that my friend is no more."

Shanks seemed like he wanted to argue, but the despondent look on Silvers' face quelled all his arguments. From where I was standing, it was obvious that he didn't want to go either, that he couldn't bear to see his idol being executed, but felt that he owed the man enough to brave it. Taking pity on the kid, I naturally volunteered.

"Hey, Shanks right? I'll come with you. I want to see the man who you all speak of with such obvious respect with my own eyes. He seems to be a remarkable person indeed. It's a shame that I couldn't meet him under better circumstances."

"Err, okay, I guess." Shanks replied hesitantly, traces of nervousness still in his voice, though it was lessening with every passing moment. "We need to hurry if we want to reach in time. It's starting to rain too, what a mess."

For once, t he petty arguments between Shanks and Buggy was silent. Quietly, they made themselves presentable, shaking off the sand from their hair as they washed their faces. Then,the two boys put on their oilskin jackets tailored from old canvas sheets, likely torn from the sails of the ship that they served on. Silvers lent me a cloak made from a similar material, which I draped around my shoulders, not bothering to cover my head.

Solemnly, we walked off the beach towards the central square in the city, where an execution platform had been set up. I turned and nearly raised my hand in a farewell greeting to Silvers, but the morose expression on his face, which seemed so out of place, made me reconsider. I sighed and lowered my hand, turning back towards the road.

There are some days when hearing a goodbye is just too painful. Today, it seemed, was one of those days.

* * *

**Central Street, Loguetown**

As we passed by the meandering crowd thronging the city square, I caught snippets of conversations and songs. It seemed as if Roger had been a rather polarizing figure in this world. Those that loved him, mourned him deeply, and were even now drowning their sorrows in drink and tears. Those that hated him were celebrating raucously, triumphant that their bitter enemy was to die at last.

One such man, a scruffy fellow with a shaved head and a sour, sallow looking skin donned his blue cap with 'Marines' written on the front, and broke out into a loud song, cheered on by his fellow crewmates.

_"I thought I heard Old Garp say, _

_'Leave her Johnny, leave her!'_

_For the voyage was long, and the gales did blow._

_And it's time for us, to leave her. _

_Oh, Roger was bad, but his mate was worse. _

_Leave her, Johnny, Leave her!_

_He'd blow you down with a sword and a curse, _

_And it's time for us to leave her."_

Both Buggy and Shanks glared murderously at the man, but I steered them away, just in time before a man shattered his bottle over the singer's head and the whole thing denigrated into a brawl.

The crowd parted before me as I strode purposefully forward, intimidating the vagabonds and winos effortlessly. Shanks and I took our place near the tall execution stand. Buggy had moved somewhere away, separated in the dense crowd. As we waited for the Pirate King's arrival, I let my senses relax and wander as I took in the measure of everyone around me. It was astounding to say the least. There were a great many powerful people assembled, some with existing strength, while some possessed limitless potential. It seemed as if this historic day had attracted some of the best that this world had to offer.

I allowed myself a small, fierce grin. It would be a great campaign indeed to either make all these powerful people a part of my army or to crush them underfoot. Either way, it seemed highly promising.

Soon, a cry arose from the crowds that the Pirate King had arrived. As everyone began to mutter and crane their necks for a better view, a fanfare of trumpets and the sound of marching of heavy boots on the wet stone announced the arrival of the procession. With a crisp maneuver, the front ranks of the soldiers broke away from the rest of the formation, and lined themselves up along the crowd. With their long-handled swords at the ready, they made for an effective barrier. Flanked on all sides by similar soldiers, Pirate Rogers stood tall, standing nearly a head above his erstwhile executioners. His hands were bound within a pillory made of stone, while his face bore the tell-tale marks of beatings and torture. Despite all this, his stance was unbroken, his head was unbowed. He grinned a fierce grin, reminiscent of martyrs and fanatics, untroubled by the commotion surrounding him.

He was dressed in a long red overcoat thrown over a deep green shirt and grey trousers. A blue sash was tied about his waist, while he wore a white silk scarf around his neck. Around his neck was a small charm in the shape of an anchor, tied with a strip of rawhide. All in all, he looked like the King that he was, despite his circumstances.

He was greeted with jeers and insults, yet he walked on, ignoring the crowd. Throughout, his smile didn't falter, his steps didn't hesitate. I could only nod approvingly. He was truly brave, to accept death for what it was. It was something that I could respect.

The two soldiers flanking him jostled him up the tall steps till he reached the very summit of the execution platform. On reaching the top, he craned his neck and looked around, surveying the massed sea of humanity. He cleared his throat and immediately the crowd fell silent, hanging onto his every gesture, every word.

"Could you please open my restraints?" he asked one of the soldiers.

The soldier seemed flustered at the sudden question and choked out, "Y-You know I cannot do that. It's against the rules."

"Oh come on, I am not going to run now. It chafes my hands, you see." Roger cajoled.

The only answer he got was a stony silence.

Roger sighed softly and remarked, "That is slightly saddening, to be honest." And then he sat down cross legged, facing the crowd proudly.

"Any last words?" one of the soldiers barked as he and his fellow executioner crossed their swords in front of the Pirate King, drawing awestruck gasps from the rabble.

The Pirate King snorted disdainfully, looking derisively upon the voyeuristic crowd. He made eye contact with some of the people that he obviously recognized and acknowledged them with a small nod. To my surprise, his eyes locked onto me and he continued to stare at me, his fierceness of his grin increasing slightly.

Someone from the crowd shouted out, "Pirate King! What about your treasure? Where is it? Where are all your riches? It is with you, isn't it?"

"Silence! You stupid insolent fool!" one of the soldiers shouted out at the faceless man.

But the question seemed to have ignited something within Roger, who kept his eyes locked on mine. "My wealth and treasures? If you want it…I'll let you have it."

One of the executioners yelled for Roger to stop, but he was relentless in his last words.

"But you will have to search the whole world for it!"

The two headsmen lifted their gigantic swords up, before bringing them down towards the man's exposed neck.

"I left it all at that place. I left everything I owned in One Piece!" he shouted triumphantly.

The swords struck true, separating his head from his shoulders. Yet the triumph in his eyes never dimmed, his smile remained on his face even after his death.

With that, the era of the Pirate King was over, but a new era was just about to begin.

The King is dead. Long live the King.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming support everyone. I as pleasantly surprised to see my mailbox explode with notifications. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy, so to speak. **

**First of all, let's clear up the issue which some of you might have: Haki and Silvers' defeat. **

**Iskandar is the very materialization of his ideals and ambitions, which is what Haki is all about, after all. As a Heroic Spirit, he already has B ranked strength and A ranked endurance, making him an unstoppable opponent on the battlefield. He is also a superior warrior, trained since childhood for waging war. His long stints on the field of battle have already made him adept in sensing situations before they occur. Hell, the real Alexander was famed for doing the exact same thing. As for the Conqueror's Haki...he is the ultimate Conquering King himself. There are none above him. Before he came to OP world, his charisma alone kept the vast armies in check, and no one had dared to question his strength or his kingship. When Silvers unleashed his own Conqueror's Haki, it resonated within Iskandar and awakened his own latent ability of the same. **

**As for the almost curb-stomp, Silvers was not battle-ready. It was a troubling time for him and in his own words, 'I have never laughed more, cried more or drunk more than I did on that day.'besides, ever since the Roger Pirates disbanded, Silvers has been on the run, hiding from marines and so lost much of his edge. Also, he underestimated Iskandar, confident in his own skills with sword and Haki. By the time he realized how out-matched he was, it was already too late. Rest assured, they will have another duel soon, with both in the peak of their abilities. **

* * *

**Background on Characters/Objects :**

**1\. Siege of Tyre: A long and brutal siege against the Island city of Tyre. For seven months, the siege continued, till Alexander created an artificial landfill which allowed his troops to move in and storm the city. So angered was Alexander at Tyre's defiance that he had it's entire populace sold into slavery.**

**2\. Spatha: a broad long sword, more commonly used by the Romans.**

**3\. Kupriotes/Cypriots: the people of Cyprus. Hailed Alexander as a hero when he liberated the island after defeating the Persian garrison.**

**4\. Kopis: a curved sword used by the Greek Cavalry. Etruscan in origin. Resembles the modern Kukri knife. **

**5\. Linothorax: the variant of the cuirass worn by the cavalry. **

**6\. Hephaestion: One of Iskandar's childhood friends and trusted confidante. Often jokingly referred to as Patroclus to Alexander's Achilles. Died 8 months before Alexander. **

**7\. Perdiccas: Commander of the Heavy Infantry Phalanx and one of the few loyal Generals of Alexander. Became the regent after Alexander's death.**

**8\. Mithrenes: Armenian commander of Perisan army. Surrendered and was greatly honored. Later declared himself King of Armenia.**

**9\. Neoptolemus: One of the Diadochi: warring generals of Alexander. Was a distinguished soldier. Famous for storming the city of Gaza single-handedly, rallying the soldiers.**

**10\. Thessalians/Thracians/Companion Cavalry: Variants of the Greek Heavy Cavalry, drawing the best from Thessaly and Thracia. Companion Cavalry was hand-picked by Alexander. **

**11\. Prodromoi/Paeonion Cavalry: Greek Light Cavalry. Included Horse archers in their ranks. **

**12\. Hypaspist: Elite shield bearing soldiers of the infantry. **

**13: Peltasts: Skirmishers. Lightly armored, armed with javelins.**

**14\. Darius: King of Persia. Alexander's enemy. Murdered by his own troops.**

**15: Diogenes: a famous scholar. famous for being rude to everyone, irrespective of their rank or status. Won Alexander's respect after a round of biting verbal jousts. **

**16\. Porus: King of India, faced Alexander in the battle of Hydaspes. **

**17: Leave her, Johnny: a sea-song sung at the end of a journey. Bawdy in nature, and is sung to voice a crew's complaints, or to simply point out a superior officer's foibles. **

* * *

This covers about everything. Next chapter we see Iskandar laying down his plans to begin his adventure. There will soon be some familiar faces entering the scene. Next chapter should be up within a week like this one.

Read and Review.  
Enjoy!


	3. Hoist the Colors

**Disclaimer: Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. Mutual Funds are subject to market risks. Please read your offer documents carefully before investing.**

**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it.**

* * *

**'That's a juicy steak': mental thought**

**"That steak is juicy!": spoken words**

**'Weigh, hey and up she rises! Early in the morning!": Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote**

* * *

**-=Folio Gamma: Hoist the Colors=-**

_"You should reach the limits of virtue, before you cross the border of death._

_Learn to love death's ink-black shadow as much as you love the light of dawn."_

_Tyrtaeus of Laconia_

* * *

"No, and for the last time Iskandar, we have no technology similar to your flying stealth bomber!" Silvers groaned out, rubbing his head tiredly while swinging idly on a hammock.

Yes, it was certainly disheartening to hear just how far behind this world was in technology as compared to the world I had left behind. It seemed as if the level of technology was still stuck somewhere in the Age of Sail. For pity's sake, there weren't even any steam engines in here and we had those even in Ancient Greece!

To be fair, this world was simply far too erratic and uncontrolled for man to lay any sort of form and order on it. It resisted all attempts to tame it, and every action was met with a far exceeding reaction, which discouraged all who would try. According to Silvers, the part of the world that we were in, East Blue; was the tamest and most manageable of all the seas. The Grand Line, a current which ran through the planet's equator, was dangerous to even the best of sailors. Freak weather and dangerous currents, not to mention the sudden whirlpools, gigantic sea-creatures and hostile islands made the Grand Line a challenge, one that needed to be met head-on and surpassed.

Funnily enough, the part of Grand Line in East and South Blue was referred to as 'Paradise', meaning that it is a veritable heaven, compared to the horrors present in the North and West Blue part.

Keeping that in mind, the developments in science were geared towards combat and survivability. According to Silvers, the top scientists of the era mostly worked on either medical discovery like better cures for ailments, creating vaccines and resistances against such ills, developing new drugs and chemicals from the exotic plant and animal life found in the Grand Line, or even studying the anatomy of the varied creatures that inhabited the world. There were rumors that some scientists were even creating methods to manipulate the living body so as to make it artificial and thus improve its physical limitations.

The other thrust of scientific discovery was of weapon development. Unlike my previous world, navigation was very difficult because of the interspersed and changing magnetic lines, which could confuse even the most accurate compass. To that end, accurate flying vessels and precision long range artillery were nearly impossible to create and execute, which was a death knell to my wish of owning a fleet of those Stealth Bombers.

Nevertheless, human ingenuity always yearns to find new ways to kill other humans. This world was no different in that regard. There were a multitude of rifles, pistols, cannons, swords, flamethrowers, rockets, bombs and many more such wonderful implements. However, the most unique weapon in this world wasn't a gigantic machine, but a simple fruit.

These mystical objects, called as the Devil Fruits, conferred the ability they carried to those who eat it. No one knew the origins of this fruit, nor did they know the exact method by which it worked, but by observing and researching for years, it was established that there were three broad kinds of Devil Fruits. The first and most common type was called as Paramecia Fruit, which bestowed strange and unusual abilities to a user which could affect their body, manipulate the environment and even produce substances. However, they didn't allow the user to transform into their element, which was the power of the Logia fruit.

Logia fruits allowed a person to become an element, like Fire, Ice, Water, Smoke and so on. In the hands of a creative and skilled warrior, the power of these fruits was limitless, and as such Logia users were highly regarded and renowned as dangerous on the field of battle.

Last of all were the Zoan fruits, which allowed a Hybrid transformation to the user. The animals that one could transform into ranged from common animals like Dog, Lion, Snake et cetera, to even beasts out of myths and legends like the Phoenix or the Basilisk. One of Silvers' strongest enemies, a Marine named Sengoku even had the ability to turn himself into a semi-divine being.

All the fruit users gained a lot after eating their fruits. Their strength, endurance, durability and regeneration, were all increased to beyond normal human levels, but along with it, they also are inflicted with an increased vulnerability to sea-water, the slightest contact with which was crippling to those with Devil Fruit abilities, which also meant that on open seas, they couldn't swim and were practically dead-weights in water.

It was all very interesting, and the more I heard, the more my mind buzzed with strategies and techniques to combat these type of warriors. In my opinion, Devil Fruits sounded like more trouble than what they were worth. Sure, they bestowed limitless power on the user, but to one sailing the endless oceans, a vulnerability to water was a devastating trade-off. I wasn't complaining though, I didn't need that kind of power and it made my enemies weak, all good points considering what I was planning to do.

After the execution, I had eventually found my way back to the small cove where Rayleigh was hiding out in. Buggy and Shanks had already reached there before me and were all agog with the revelation of the existence of the One Piece treasure. The two were already planning on setting sail on the seas and trying their luck on finding the treasure, at least Buggy was. Shanks was smart enough to understand that the way he stood now, he would be consumed by the sea long before he reached his destination, though he was planning to set sail as an experienced seaman's crew member before cutting out on his own.

Rayleigh was silent as he heard the account of the execution, though I could catch the barest hint of satisfaction and understanding cross his face when the declaration of One Piece was mentioned. While we were gone, he had managed to catch and kill a few wild animals which he then roasted on an open fire for dinner. That night, we ate, drank and made merry till the early hours. Silvers was determined to celebrate Roger's life rather than his death, more for his own sake than anything else, and it showed in his very bearing. However it was not my place to tell him how he should grieve, he knew himself best after all.

The next day, after everyone had recovered from the heavy drinking of the night before, Silvers had asked me the fateful question: what was I planning to do next?

I had not really thought about it. The previous few days had been turning out to be a tumultuous ride, and I could barely regain my bearings long enough to make a decision. I only had vague ideas of setting sail on a ship, traveling with Rayleigh to his chosen destination and generally just going with the flow. Now however, with the tempting lure of treasure-hunting and braving the high seas looming on the horizon, I was completely hooked.

Upon hearing my intentions, Silvers took it upon himself to brief me on the new world that I found myself in. From the currency and economy, to the governance and the major military powers existing in the world, to even common legends and prevalent myths, Silvers gave me his valuable insight into everything that he could think of, and I soaked it all up, assimilating it within my mind.

It was all going so well, till the day I saw her.

She was elegant, beautiful and sleek. Everything about her seemed to emphasize grace and sophistication with the subtle undercurrent of restrained power. Looking at her was like looking upon a slumbering goddess, you could admire the form from afar, but you always had to be wary of the power within. The moment I saw her, I knew that I had to have her, possess her and make her mine in all but name. Oh! How I longed to run my fingers over her, exploring her gentle curves with all the affection of the newlywed. The moment I saw her, I knew that she was made for me, no matter who had her at the moment. As a conqueror, I recognized no ownership. She would be mine and I was going to take her.

Though, I had to agree with Silvers. One couldn't just make off with the Marine Leader's ship easily without proper planning.

The beautiful ship that I had fallen in love with was a majestic Man-O-War called the _Adamant_, and was newly built, replete with the latest in technologies and armaments. She had three masts and square rigged sails and possessed three gun decks, as she carried 125 cannons, making for a devastating broadside. Built to show off the power of the Marines, the magnificent vessel was on its maiden voyage, and carried a large amount of supplies and stores within it. Requiring a crew of over a hundred men, the ship had sailed from the Marine Headquarters to Loguetown, bearing the official delegation of the Marines on it.

To me, it was poetic justice. By all accounts, Roger's execution was a dog and pony show and even in his last moments they didn't afford him dignity and respect. The man had enough pride to not let their pettiness affect him, but still, they had tried to trample on his pride. I thought it fitting to capture their prized ship and return the favor.

Silvers had slapped his palm to his forehead in exasperation, but said little else to oppose me. All things considered, he was doing that a lot around me these days, just like now.

"Fine, fine." I waved my hand reassuringly, "Those flying ships would have made our job a lot easier, but I suppose we can decide on a viable strategy without them."

"I suppose we could." Silvers remarked dryly. "The ship is well-stocked and is sea-worthy, but we still need a crew to man her and a large enough distraction to escape the port without being pursued."

"I can handle that. Any leads about where can we get so much manpower at short notice? An open audition for a crew will bring down the marines on top of our heads."

"Hmm, I believe that Buggy has some ideas for that, if I am not mistaken." Silvers remarked as we both looked expectantly towards the boy who looked very skittish and nervous to be put on the spot like that.

"Well, I was in town yesterday, when I heard some flashy rumors." He began, hesitantly. "Those flashy marine bastards are garrisoning most of their troops here and are going to transport the prisoners to Impel Down Prison in their new ship. Most of them, at least. Some will be sold to the slavers."

This was another unsavory aspect of this world that I had little patience with. Slaves.

I was no stranger to slavery, considering that it was very common in my time. But we mostly treated the slaves with respect. They were the ones who grew the crops, tilled the fields and kept the infrastructure running while the soldiers fought in distant lands. They had civil rights and liberties to a certain extent, and some were even allowed to open shops and own lands, many could also buy their own freedom if they earned enough money. Infact, there were rumors that in Attica, slaves were given unprecedented freedom and enjoyed a happy lot.

Slavery here though, was wasteful, for lack of a better word. Most of the slaves were owned by the nobles as status symbols or as a measure of wealth and were ill-treated and demeaned as if they were common animals. It was also said that some wealthy owners force-fed their slaves Devil Fruits and then made them fight each other for their amusement. Such a willful waste of life and complete lack of human empathy was simply beyond my ken.

"And when is this transfer going to take place?" I interjected.

"Uh, in about one week or so."

"That gives us enough time to come up with a suitable plan. Timing will be very important, we will need to rescue those prisoners and bring them aboard the ship. At the same time we have draw away the marines' ire and distract them long enough for the ship to be ready."

"I think that might work." Silvers agreed as he nodded slowly, "The distraction has to be one of us. There are several high ranked marines on the island right now and neither Shanks nor Buggy are strong enough to deal with all of them together."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll give them a target big enough that all eyes will be on me."

"Alright, so I guess that we are really doing this. What about you? Are you alright with being a pirate? They are going to outlaw your name to high heavens if we pull this off, you know?" Silvers pointed out thoughtfully, as he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back against the wall of the shack.

"Don't try to talk him out of this!" Shanks butted in, looking mortally offended. "With this big guy's plan, I am going to get a ridiculously high bounty! My dream is finally going to come true and I won't let anyone come in between that!"

Silvers groaned in exasperation and bonked the younger boy on his head, pushing down on the conspicuous straw-hat he had taken to wearing. Buggy just laughed at his fellow rival's misfortune as the red-haired boy tried to dislodge his head from the headwear.

"Ignore him. He has been harping on about that forever, especially after all the crew earned significant bounties after our war against another pirate except these two."

"They didn't fight?"

"They did, though Buggy's contribution was rather, reluctant, shall we say? But apparently they were overlooked by the Marines, which is rather unfortunate. They are the only two from Roger's last crew who didn't amass a name or a bounty for themselves."

Buggy and the freshly un-stuck Shanks glowered and looked indignant, finally resembling the kids that they were rather than veteran seamen that they pretended to be, but at that moment they reminded me so much of Waver that I couldn't help but add a few words of encouragement.

"Ignore the fossil here boys. Let me tell you something, great men aren't born great…they grow great. I wasn't the oldest son of my father, and as such, I had no hope of succeeding him as king. Yet, my ambitions and wishes were too great for fate to hold down, and I never let circumstances get the better of me. You want something? Then you keep working towards it. Let nothing stand in your way."

It was a bit much and idealistic, but true nevertheless. A dogged pursuit and relentless efforts towards realizing one's ambitions can sometimes yield greater successes than mere chance.

"And as for your question Silvers, yes, I am alright with being a pirate. I don't trust society to protect me and mine, and I have no intention of putting my fate in the hands of men whose only qualification is that they conned a bunch of fools into believing that they were righteous. If the price of living free is being labeled an outlaw, then so be it. It's not too high a price."

"Spoken like a true pirate of the seas!" Silvers remarked, a wide grin on his face "now all we need is a Jolly Roger to go along with that ship of yours, and then you can officially be one!"

The Jolly Roger was yet another idiosyncrasy of this world, though one that I could identify readily with. It was the mark of a pirate, a flag that represented him and his crew and was flown proudly on the masts. Raising this black flag cemented a man's existence as a pirate forever, and he was always treated as such. A noble concept, yet I knew that I had no talent in things like this. So I chose to defer to the experts for this.

"Yeah, about that…is any one of you a decent painter? I have a few ideas that I'd like to run through."

Silvers held the two boys up by the scruff of their collars, even as they kicked and snarled futilely. Looks like I had my newest volunteers.

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

"Virginal Sun." Shanks snickered alongside Buggy, the two boys in agreement for once.

"For the last time, it's not the Virginal Sun, it's the Vergina Sun! Vergina! How immature can you two boys get?" I growled in annoyance. It was a simple design, a skull surrounded by sixteen lances of light arranged in a sunburst. I wanted my Jolly Roger based on the same flag that my father and I had once flown proudly. This was supposed to be a solemn, serious moment, yet these two buffoons could do nothing better than giggle like a pair of pubescent girls.

"Gyahaha, I'm sure that this time he said Vagi-"Buggy began to crack another tasteless joke before I knocked him out in sheer irritation, thankfully cowing the red-haired boy who began work on the flag without further comment.

Gods, I hoped I was never this immature when I was their age.

It was always a futile hope.

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

"So this is a pistol, eh?" I asked, amusement coloring my voice as I inspected the poor excuse of a weapon in my hands.

"Yeah, and it's one of the best too. In the hands of an expert, this beauty can destroy cannons in one shot!" Silvers claimed proudly, as he outfitted himself with a brace of similar pistols.

"Is that so? Let's see…" I commented before swiftly bringing up the weapon and taking aim towards the back of Silvers' head and pulled on the trigger.

The gun discharged with a loud bang and a puff of smoke as the weighted ball of lead hurtled towards the tall pirate. Without deigning to look back, Silvers drew his sword in a smooth motion and neatly sliced the bullet in two.

"It didn't even dent your sword, how will this little thing destroy cannons?" I asked logically. I didn't mention that I had prior knowledge of guns, and I knew for a fact that a flintlock-and-lead pistol didn't have enough power to pierce through the thick metal cast of cannons. Even in the world of the Grail War, only the most powerful of pistols had enough penetrating power. Secure in my knowledge, I grinned challengingly at Silvers.

The Dark King grinned lazily back and with expert movements discharged all four pistols within seconds towards the hull of an old boat, propped against the cliffside.

With a loud boom, the cliff disintegrated in a shower of rock and sand.

Twirling the deceptively small pistol in his hands, Silvers looked down smugly at me. "Like this. All it takes is a little practice."

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

"So the portside is the left, and the starboard is the right, right?" I mused, waving my arms expansively to clarify things.

"Yeah, that's what I said! For such a powerful man, you are surprisingly slow." Shanks commented, cheekily smiling up at me, the brim of his hat pulled down low.

"Oi, brat! Watch your mouth." I warned, raising my fist in threat.

The boy shut up for once and went back to practice with his sword. He was surprisingly skilled with the weapon, and was very agile too, flitting and jumping between the stuffed dummies. I watched entranced as he pulled of a very complex maneuver, throwing his sword through the gut of a dummy and spinning around to pull out the sword and slice the top off another dummy with a backhanded strike.

Baring my teeth in anticipation, I summoned my Kopis and with a shouted challenge, started to duel the red-head, enjoying the spar immensely.

Within minutes, the boy was panting and sweating heavily, though a matching smirk adorned his face too. With a loud yell he squinted and charged straight at me, slashing and hacking his sword in frenzy, giving his all in his last-ditch attack.

I enjoyed the stupefied expression on his face when his adrenaline rush wore off and he realized that his feet were not touching the ground. The silly idiot hadn't even noticed that right after his charge I had picked him up by his collar and held him at arm's length till his frenzy died down.

I shook the fool till he dropped the sword and grinned sheepishly up at me as I brought him at eye level, a neutral expression on my face.

After making him sweat for a few moments, I smirked slightly and tossed him over my shoulder, noting the distant splash with satisfaction.

"That will teach you who is slow." I muttered under my breath, surprised at my own pettiness.

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

I resisted the urge to cry as I noticed the ludicrous excuses for clothes piled around me. It was a simple thing really, just go to the town, go to a clothing store and buy some expensive, fashionable clothes. Yet, Buggy had managed to mess this up too.

"Where in the world did you get the idea that I would ever wear a neon green shirt, or a bright purple coat or top hat with a built-in pink wig?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice level as I held up each offending piece of fabric one by one.

"This will make you flashy and awe-inspiring! It is the most perfect outfit I could find, though the colors can be a bit brighter." He said off-handedly, gazing thoughtfully at the miserable hat.

"This will make me look like a damn clown."

"So? Clowns are fierce and terrifying. When I set sail with my own crew, I will make everyone dress as clowns, and then entire ports will surrender at the mere sight of us!"

"Yeah yeah, you do that. But what will you do if a port fires at your ship and you start to sink. You will be dead-weight anchor since you can't swim."

At this logically-correct remark, Buggy fell to pieces…literally, his Devil Fruit power manifesting itself absurdly, as always. Sifting through the pile of limbs and assorted body parts, I picked out Buggy's head and pulled it out.

"Now listen here, you are going to go back, you are going to return these travesties from whichever hole-in-the-ground you got them from, then you are going to buy a proper set of noble looking clothing, and then and only then are you going to show your face around me. Am I clear on that?"

"Y-Yes Sir!" He stammered in fear as he slowly reassembled himself.

"Good. Now scatter."

Buggy fell to pieces once again. Literally.

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

Silvers and I walked down the quay at night, taking in the beauteous sight of the full moon reflected on the choppy waters. The cool breeze and the faint rustling of the palm trees added to the serenity of the scene before us, yet we were anything but relaxed. We knew that the transfer of the slaves was due to begin in two days, effectively beginning the countdown for our little game. Over the past few days, our motley band had laid down the preparations for our plan; this was the last aspect which needed to be taken care of.

Silvers knew an expert forger who used to produce exceedingly accurate Letters of Passage and Port and even duplicated Permits and other such documents in Loguetown. After Roger and his hometown had gained considerable infamy, he had gone to ground, offering his services only through recommendations. Luckily, Silvers knew another contact that could do so.

So, the meeting had been fixed and now we were just waiting for the forger's arrival. The massive bulk of the _Adamant_ loomed ahead, making me sigh in longing. Silvers elbowed me in the side, gesturing me to keep quiet. Not really wanting to argue, I complied, searching for a good vantage point.

Running silently, I jumped up high and landed smoothly atop a tall tree, overlooking the entire quay, moments later, Silvers followed suit, landing on the branches just below me. From our position the menacing prison loomed black in the night.

"So, that's it eh? The Marine Base. I wonder how these knights of valor and justice can bear to sleep while the prisoners and slaves cry out in anguish beneath them." I muttered with a hint of malice, reminded suddenly of the self-righteous Saber of the Grail War. I could just about imagine her doing the exact same thing while spouting empty words about duty or chivalry or some other nonsense like that.

"They are cold-hearted bastards for the most part. While the rest believe that they are doing the right thing, after all, a criminal forfeits his rights when he turns to a life of crime, doesn't he?" Silvers answered back, his tone conveying his disgust for the hypocritical nature of the supposedly lawful marines.

"I am going to burn that eyesore of a building down when I make my escape, I'm telling you right now."

"I was not going to stop you. It's a pity that I won't be alongside to help. But for now, lower your voice, can you hear that too?"

I strained my ears and picked up the faint music of violins approaching the quay. "The violin? Yeah. It's very far though, can't hear it very clearly."

As we listened, the sounds began to grow louder in volume, and slowly the accompanying words began to drift down the breeze.

'_Away from the city that hurts and mocks, I'm standing alone by the desolate dock. _

_In the still and the chill of the night, I see the horizon the great unknown_'

"That's your man right? Your contact mentioned his unusual entrance, maybe this is it."

"He also mentioned an unhealthy obsession with unusual animals, so be careful for any critter sneaking up on us." Even as I complied with Silvers' instructions, the unearthly music continued.

Soon, we saw the musician walking up the quay in measured steps. He was a tall man with a girth as wide as he was tall. His face seemed pinched and cruel, with several scars marring his face. His reddish-violet hair was cut in the sides, leaving a strip sticking out. he was garbed in fine quality clothing, though his tastes were just as bad as Buggy's, an eccentric mash of red and bright yellow. His music stopped when he noticed us, and stowing away his violin he smiled unconvincingly up at us.

"So you two are the ones I was told about, the high-priority cases, eh? Can't really see what the fuss was about, you two look like regular meatheads to me." Even his voice was reedy and annoying. The more time I spent in the man's presence, the less pleased I grew, but despite his abrasive personality the man was necessary, so I endured valiantly.

Silvers apparently was tired of the man too, as he let loose a small sliver of his commanding presence, flooding the surroundings with his will and with the colour of his dreams and ambitions. Under that onslaught, the man swiftly buckled.

"Appearances can be deceptive, hm? Now listen well, you will be paid handsomely in cash for this little forgery, provided it is done by tomorrow."

"Y-Yeah, I'll d-do it. It's what I do of course, yeah."

"Good man. That's what I thought. Now we need this little document forged..." Silvers trailed off, pulling out a frilly piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over carefully to the forger, who seemed ready to wet himself.

"Are you serious!" He half-yelled, "Is this even real? Where did you manage to get one?"

"It's a long story and one that I am in no mood to relieve, but let's just say that the previous owner won't be needing this anymore. Now, for the Kingdom, hmm, let's go with Goa...and for the name...Iskandar II"

"Okay, got it. Goa Kingdom Noble, Iskandar the Second. Damn it, I'll do it, but the money you pay better be good...I'll have to lay low again, and maybe even change islands if I'm going to forge you an identity as well as add to the lists of nobles in the city. The marines will have my head if they ever find out." The man was obviously blabbering again, probably scared out of his mind. He needed a firm reminder of who exactly he was in more danger from.

"So you just have to make sure that they never will, right? The marines may or may not have your head, but if you double cross us, I promise you that you will not live out that day." I threatened, staring intimidatingly in the weak-willed man's eyes, noting with relish his frantic nods of agreement.

Our business concluded, the man sprinted away from us, wanting to put in as much distance as he could. After a few moments Silvers sighed and looked towards the climbing moon, his glasses flashing in the faint light.

"He might have been a worm, but damn, couldn't he have had the courtesy to finish his song before leaving?" he lamented.

* * *

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

It was a bright morning, with clear skies and a bright sun, no trace of a storm on the horizon. Little did the people of Loguetown know that a storm was soon coming, one that would shake their foundations and tear apart the edifices that had been held up for so long. Silvers was already up, tallying up his arsenal of weapons. He had once again worn the silk shirt and shorts that we wore for battle, claiming that they made him more aerodynamic. I had my doubts, but they weren't hampering him either, so I said nothing.

Seeing that I had woken up too, Silvers nodded in acknowledgement and tossed me a bar of soap and a swath of cloth. Yawning widely, I washed my face meticulously with the soap, taking care to rub out any idle dirt spots. Knowing the fussy nature of the nobles that I was pretending to be, I even remembered to clean under my finger-nails, wiping away another layer of accumulated grime. Drying myself with the rag, I pulled on the finery that Buggy had thankfully obtained on his second trip. I buttoned up the light blue colored shirt, then pulled on a darker blue colored overcoat. With some grumbling I pulled on the uncomfortable trousers and finally wore the complex cape-like thing over the entire ensemble. I felt foolish, I knew I looked foolish, but then again, this was supposedly the latest fashion or some such. There was nothing to do for it.

At last, I wore a pair of soft leather boots, that I actually rather liked and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to pat down the wild mane into something respectable.

By the time I had finished making myself presentable, the two boys were up and dressed for combat.

At the prearranged hour, Silvers ambled away towards the harbor, while the two boys made their way towards the town center. As for myself, I took to the roads, walking confidently down the cobbled paths till I reached the Marine Base.

Outside, a burly man stood guard at the entrance, though he tensed on seeing me and my obvious display of wealth. I sneered down at him, not even requiring to act to do so.

"Er, my lord sir...how may I help you today?" he wheezed, voice dripping with faked politeness.

"Silence, fool! I came here to attend the slave auction, or am I too late for that too?"

"N-No sir, the auction and transfer is today itself. May I please know who is it that I have the pleasure of announcing?"

"Tell them...Tell them that Iskandar is here."

* * *

**To be continued**

**~-=oOoOo=-~**

* * *

**A/N : Thanks again everyone for the wonderful support. Sorry for the two week delay. No excuses, I was off playing Far Cry 4...and I couldn't write till I was done with it.  
Good news, part two of this chapter is mostly written and will be released this coming friday. Rejoice.  
**

**The next chapter features an all out battle against the marine heroes and Iskandar even as the rest of the crew storm the prison and make away with the Marine's flagship. So stay tuned. :)**

* * *

**Background on Characters/Objects:**

**1.**** B2 Stealth Bomber: Iskandar has shown a desire to own several of these magnificent planes. Seeing that the new world doesn't have anything remotely like it, his heartbreak is real. **

**2\. Man-O-War: Also called as ship of the line. It was usually a massive ship, lumbering and slow, yet fully armored and with a intimidating gun-deck to boot. The Adamant featuring here is the same as a Buster Call ship, the difference being that it was still new back during Roger's execution. In my timeline, their grand unleashing was against Ohara. Fun fact: This is the ship that will be Iskandar's Invictus.  
**

**3\. Iskandar's views on Slavery: True to history, or at least as much as I can remember. It was common for even a peasant to own a slave, but the definition of slave and his conditions varied. The mining slaves had the worst of it, though the artisans and craftsmen slaves were very well treated. Iskandar is revolted by the waste of resources rather than the concept of slavery itself. **

**4\. Attica: an ancient greek kingdom, encompassing modern Athens and a bit. **

**5\. Vergina Sun: a design featuring a 16 headed sunburst. said to be the emblem of Phillip and Alexander. As a Jolly Roger, imagine a skull overlaid on 8 bones, each pointing towards a direction. **

**6\. the lines used is from the song 'I cover the waterfront'...I've personally only heard the Jazz version. **

**7\. The forger is based on Butler, a villain in a OP movie. Not the same, but similar.**

* * *

**Read and Review. Cheers. **


	4. The Black Flag

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. Mutual Funds are subject to market risks. Please read your offer documents carefully before investing.**

**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it.**

**'that's a juicy steak' : mental thought**

**"That steak is juicy!": spoken words**

**'**_**Weigh, hey and up she rises! Early in the morning!" **_**: Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote**

* * *

**-=Folio Delta: The Black Flag=-**

'_It's the unconquerable soul of man and not the nature of the weapon he uses, that ensures victory'_

* * *

**~oO Iskandar Oo~**

"Er, very well, just give me a moment…" the doorman simpered as he rapped on the door to the auction house and began to announce my entrance. "My honored Ladies and Gentlemen, I am grateful for the chance to present to you Sir Iskandar the Second, a Noble from the magnificent Goa Kingdom."

Without bothering to hear out his long winded introduction, I shoved him out of the way and strode confidently in.

I was not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. The antechamber was richly decorated with finely-crafted tapestries and chandeliers made of crystal, gleaming and glittering in the darkened hallway. The carpet that I strode on was exceedingly soft to the feel and showed a map of the world with the symbol of the Marines overlaid on it, showing their supposed dominion over the entire known world.

The main room was very large, with a raised dais on the extreme end, facing a series of steps, each having rows upon rows of seats. The very top row was left empty and all the rest were filled to the brim with the so-called nobles. Even here, their narcissism and tendency for self-aggrandizement showed itself. The lowest ranked nobles were sitting down towards the floor on plain wooden chairs, with a simple cushion acting as the sole luxury, while the highest ranked ones enjoyed the pleasures of ornate reclining lounges and were seated comfortably towards the top.

As I entered, all the curiosity-filled eyes stared at me. Unheeding of their searching gaze, I took in the sights and mentally began to create a layout of the room. There were two exits, one towards the top of the seats, and the one that I came in from. Presumably, there were probably at least a couple of exits in the backstage, where the slaves were being held. It just made my job a lot simpler. Having been briefed about the Noble-line I was impersonating, I walked up a couple of rows and sat down firmly on my chair and watched the proceedings in rapt attention.

Up on the dais, the announcer began rattling off the choicest items to be sold off like chattel. From what I could discern of the names, a fair number were women. Judging by the lecherous grins on the bloated faces, I wasn't surprised at the perverseness of it all. Disgusted, yes but not surprised.

His announcements done, the host for the evening called out for the slaves to be brought in for a display. At his barked order, two hulking brutes, the enforcers apparently, trudged in through the backstage door and after a few moments, returned with the merchandise behind them.

The slaves were all hauled inside a gigantic metal cage. The cage was large and roomy and fitted with thick bars to prevent any form of escape, yet allowed the unfortunate captives to be leered at without restraint. Dispassionately, I noted that they were all exceedingly breathtaking to look at, pretty of face and lush of form, yet what stood out the most to me was the despair and hopelessness in their empty eyes.

There was no defiance, no righteous anger, and no rage…just acceptance.

I could not let that abide.

The captives were tied to each other by using long metal chains attached to collars around their necks as well as to the manacles around their hands. According to Silvers, these collars were vicious inventions, designed to explode remotely if a slave managed to escape.

Whenever a slave's name would be called out to be auctioned, the host would unlock the chain by using a key that he kept around his neck. The sold slaves were lined up against the wall, kept under watch by the guards of whoever had bought them.

It was difficult to be patient and to not react to this depravity, yet I bided my time. For our plan to succeed, everything needed to be perfectly in sync with each other. As the appointed hour grew near, I readied myself mentally, preparing to play my part.

"Next to be auctioned is the graceful gem of Alabasta, the dancer extraordinaire, whose beauty has entranced everyone all the way across the Grand Line, I present to you: Tahira!" The man cried out, presenting a young woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, with a slender build and long black hair. She was dressed in a silky flowing costume which was wrapped around her ivory skin alluringly.

"The bidding starts at five hundred thousand Beli. " The host called out, and almost immediately, hands began to rise in response to the initial bid. Once the initial flurry of bidding had died down, only a few of the present nobles were trying to outbid each other.

"Three million, to the gentleman from Lvneel Kingdom!"

"Four to the Dressrossan Noble!"

At this, I lazily raised my hand, much to the surprise of the other nobles around who had probably written me off.

"The gentleman from Goa has made a bid of five million belis. Any counter offers?"

A few quiet moments passed as the assembled nobles debated among themselves whether the woman was worth the six million that they would have to pay. It seemed that she wasn't as no one tried to outbid my offer.

The host banged his gavel loudly and declared, "And Sold! To Sir Iskandar of Goa for Five Million Belis."

Grinning, I got up from my seat and walked right up to the dais with sure, confident steps. At my approach, the man seemed to stammer and sweat in nervousness.

"Sir, I will have to ask you to leave the dais…you can collect your goods once the proceedings are complete."

"Is that so, hmm? You think that you can tell me what to do?"

"O-Of course not, but it's the protocol!" he whined, as if that meant anything to me. "All material transactions will be completed and ratified after the proceedings are finished, not before!"

Ignoring the man's piteous rulemongering and the whispers of the nobles behind me, I turned my head askance and nodded slightly towards the woman I had just bought. I smiled reassuringly at her, noticing how the slightest glimmer of hope appeared in her deadened eyes.

"I understand, it's the protocol, so you say." I said flippantly, "But you know, I don't think that I want to wait any longer."

"S-Sir, what are you saying?"

"I am saying that this auction is now over. They say that when I'm angered, I'm like the devil. And today, I have come to collect my due." I spoke softly, but clearly, and without another word I summoned the Sword of the Kupriotes and plunged it deep in the man's belly.

* * *

**~oO Shanks Oo~**

The day was pleasant, the storms of the last week now a thing of the past. With the bright shining sun, the cheerful sea-breeze and the pleasant noise of the waves breaking upon the shore, one might even mistake the atmosphere as being peaceful. The ones who knew better were already preparing themselves for the oncoming storm.

The docks were a flurry of activity. A great many visitors had come to Loguetown to witness the Pirate King's execution, and not all of them were exactly polite company. Many of these shady characters had long since departed in the cover of the night, while several others were already making preparations for a longer voyage. Their ships and vessels were anchored either off-shore or in reclusive coves and inlets, but for the purpose of resupply and recruitment, nearly all had ended up on the common docks.

So long as they went about their business quietly, the stationed marines were content to let them be, not wanting the added burden of a skirmish after the tiring few weeks of watching over Roger.

Shanks and Buggy were going to be the ones to break that stalemate.

The two were well-accustomed to the bustle at the ports with all the time spent in the Pirate King's crew, and knew just how easy it was to disrupt the unspoken truce. They were dressed innocuously in a simple shirt and shorts. Shanks' straw hat and Buggy's sailing cap were pulled down low on their heads, hiding their distinctive hair from easy identification. The long coat that they wore over their clothes served to conceal their cutlasses.

With a wry grin, the two parted ways, one heading towards a captain of a smuggling ship, the other towards the marines.

Buggy had chosen to go after the smugglers, claiming that he was familiar with what could rile them up, having dealt with them to obtain some black market explosives in the past. Shanks had merely shrugged and accepted to deal with the marines.

Walking nonchalantly, Shanks took up his position, leaning against a stack of timber, overlooking both, the marine patrol and Buggy in his view. Idly, he took out a rolled-up cigarette that he had stolen from Silvers earlier and lit it with a match.

Grimacing slightly as he smelled the stale tobacco, Shanks drew the lit cigarette near his lips and inhaled deeply, only to cough violently in short gasps. Discarding his attempt to look cool, Shanks crushed the offending object underfoot and hoped that no one had noticed the lapse in his veneer of serenity and good-cheer.

Buggy had already successfully ingratiated himself with the smugglers' captain, and was presumably trying to get a bunk aboard the man's ship even now. And judging from the poor sap's enthusiastic nodding, succeeding at it too. Their relative youth and anonymity, while galling at times, was serving them well today.

After some over-the-top negotiations, Buggy saluted the man and then turned to follow the man's orders and made his way towards the cargo holds, but not before nodding surreptitiously towards Shanks.

Taking that as his cue, Shanks straightened and dusted himself off, getting his serious-face on. It was now time to earn his corn.

* * *

**~oO Silvers Oo~**

The past few days had been as tumultuous for Silvers as they had for Iskandar. In such a short span of time, he had lost his captain, and had to face the reality that even now numerous seamen were setting out like vultures, each more eager than the last to claim the late Pirate Kings' riches. The appearance of the dangerously charismatic Iskandar and all that he entailed had only served to further confuse his already jumbled thoughts.

He was feeling conflicted over where his loyalties should lay now, with the memories of his fallen captain, or with the seeming successor of Roger's will. Like the Roger of old, Iskandar too was a natural leader, a skilled warrior and an able strategist. The impromptu duel between Silvers and Iskandar, and the subsequent revelation of the man's naturally overwhelming Haki, had all but cemented Silvers' loyalty.

Whether this would translate into him accepting Iskandar as his captain, was another matter altogether.

However these matters were something to be considered carefully later on, preferably on a bellyful of meat and rum, while snoozing in the crow's nest on a ship. Until he had that piece of mind of mull things over, Silvers was content to follow the man's lead, which brought him here, towards the Marines' prison.

Contrary to their initial impressions, the prison and the auction house were essentially separate. Seeing as how slavery was officially banned by the World Government, the auctioneers had to fly under the radar. They did this brazenly by declaring such auctions to be 'rehabilitation projects' for the minor offenders. As long as the Marines received their ample bribes on time, they were willing to overlook such indiscretion. Every few months, the chief warden of the local prison would send out the list of the choicest of convicts, usually comprised of females or exotic members of different species, and sometimes devil fruit users, to the auctioneers, who would then organize one such sale and invite the nobles to it.

They were careful not to let the Celestial Dragons catch the wind of it, if only for the fact that those despicable creatures would have simply claimed the entire inventory as their own, without recompense.

Thus, while the exotic and the nubile specimens had been whisked away, the common rabble; the run-of-the-mill convicts had been left behind. They were the ones that Silvers was after.

The most common crime on these seas was piracy and smuggling, closely followed by petty thievery and robbery, which meant that the prison held a sea-worthy crew who could easily sail any ship. Even the robbers and bandits could be made to hold a gun and return fire, doubling up as foot soldiers and meat shields. If they were going to pull off this heist and make away with the flagship of the marines, they were going to need these men.

As the sun began to climb steadily higher on the corn-blue sky, and the hour neared towards the mid-morning, Silvers heard a loud explosion and commotion coming from the docks, just the way that they had planned.

As expected, the guards and the local patrols, all rushed towards the docks to investigate, leaving the coast clear for Silvers' infiltration.

Almost nonchalantly, Silvers sauntered towards the prison, kicking in the sturdy steel doors with laughable ease. He had almost reached the entrance to the holding cells when he was first noticed by a marine, who immediately raised the intruder alarm.

Smiling serenely, Silvers kicked a pebble towards the poor man, reinforcing it with Armament Haki. The small stone flew at unimaginable speeds and struck the man's sternum, knocking the wind out of him as his rifle fell from his nerveless hands. Silvers scooped up the weighty weapon and held it by the barrel, wielding it as a club.

By this time, a small contingent of marine soldiers had surrounded Silvers, pointing their rifles at him as they demanded his surrender. At his failure to comply with their orders, the ranking officer of the platoon gave the order to fire.

In an incredible display of skill, Silvers pulled the bayonet off the rifle and used the small blade to deflect and redirect the shots being fired at him. After the volley, when the smoke cleared, he was revealed to be unscathed. Before the marines could begin to comprehend what had just happened, Silvers grinned and fell upon them.

Jabbing the rifle-butt into the stupefied officer's gut, Silvers knocked him down then walloped an advancing marine upside the head with it. Parrying another soldier's sword with his little blade, he punched through another soldier's guard, breaking his sword and his nose too, for good measure.

Silvers sensed a blow coming from behind, using his Haki, and promptly caught the man's sword hand in a grip of iron. Breaking the man's wrist, he turned him about, using him as a shield against an oncoming stab. Throwing the now bleeding man to the side, he brought both his palms down together on the attacker's head, knocking him out instantly.

Within moments, the entire attacking force of the marines had been incapacitated, as they lay bleeding, broken and groaning upon the ground. By this time, the officer had regained his wits and was trying to stumble upright.

Silvers was having none of that. He jumped forward and viciously attacked the man upside his head with a fierce roundhouse, the force of which knocked the man into the gates, splintering the wood with the strength of the blow.

The Dark King just smirked and made a show of dusting his hands off, "I do so love making an entrance. It leaves a distinct…impression." He remarked to himself, stepping upon the downed officer as he walked in towards the bowels of the prison, as unruffled as ever.

* * *

**~oO Iskandar Oo~**

For a moment, everything was silent. The nobles were all rooted to their seats, gazing on at the unfolding spectacle with a growing expression of horror, dread and disgust on their faces. The slaves were also looking at me with shock written clear on their faces; an improvement from their earlier dead-eyed expression, if you ask me. Especially hilarious was the whole gamut of emotions flitting across the soon-to-be corpse's face, ranging from confusion to pain to self righteous anger. I rested my palm on his shoulder and pulled him forwards, stabbing the short sword even deeper on his corpulent form and watched as the last of the light faded away from his eyes. Only then did I kick him off my sword, throwing him down upon the stage with a wet thump.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the steady dripping of blood from my sword, and then pandemonium erupted around me.

The nobles all rose to their feet, screaming and yelling, not at the murder itself, but at the brutality of it. The slave girls held on to each other, wailing and shouting in fear at the top of their voices. The young dancer girl, the one that I had purchased, had fallen down on her knees, mouth agape at the casual violence that I had inflicted.

All of them were used to cruelty, pain and hunger…and to an extent, even death. But knowing about it and seeing it being dealt so easily with had shaken the entire assembly to its core.

I let them vent their fear and terror upon the silent heavens until finally my ears could not take the sonic abuse anymore. There are many ways to get a panicking group under control, but knowing the spineless nature of my target, I used the simplest and the oldest trick in the book.

I yelled.

"SILENCE! You misbegotten, worm-laden spawns of Tartarus! Silence, before I throw you lot to the crows!" I shouted, brandishing my bloodied sword, cowing the nobles sufficiently enough for stillness to ensue.

"Good," I continued, "It seems that you can be tamed. In case it wasn't clear enough, let me repeat: This auction is over." I enunciated clearly, glaring at each noble in turn. To my immense satisfaction, at least one had lost control over his bladder, staining his seat, cushions and all.

"You can't do this, you treacherous dog! You will be caught by the Marines, and then I will make sure that you will be drawn and quartered!" One of the worms blustered, an effect ruined by his stammering and shaking. Oh well, I suppose that it's the thought that counts.

"There will be no marines coming to your rescue; I can assure you of that. Why, in a moment, they are going to have a lot many more problems than coming to the aid of a semi-illegal auction." I declared with an ostentatious gesture, pointing towards the docks from one of the large windows. On cue, the docks were rocked by a massive explosion, followed by yells and sounds of combat. "As you can see, your rescue party will be sadly indisposed."

"What do you want? Money? Girls? You can have the lot for all I care!"

I narrowed my eyes at the simpering man and pulled him out of his seat, dragging him out towards the stage by his hair. There I threw him down sprawling on the ground, right beside the corpse of the late and unlamented auctioneer and pointed my sword towards his neck as I spoke softly.

"Let me make something very clear to you and your ilk. I am Iskandar, the Scourge of Kings. I detest weak-willed idiots like you. One word, one more bloody word from your mouths and I will cut your heads off. Right now, you all exist because I allow it. Just as easily, you all will end if I demand it. Understood?"

As the man's eyes rolled upwards as he lost consciousness, I felt it safe to conclude that yes, he did.

* * *

**~oO Silvers Oo~**

The heist had been going flawlessly so far, which of course meant that it was going to go wrong in the worst way possible. A valid assumption, which was proven true the instant that Silvers laid his eyes upon the trio of Marine officers that were blocking his way in.

The first one was a man of average height, dressed in an open-collared uniform shirt, designating him to be a Marine Captain. His sole distinguishing feature was his odd, violet colored hair, twisted in a small looping ponytail over his forehead.

The other was his diametrically opposite. He too was a captain, but was more muscularly built than his counterpart. His ridiculously tall hairstyle, with a standard-issue marine cap perched jauntily on the top, was the only unique thing about him.

The two were Ranked Officers, sure, but for a warrior of Silvers' caliber, they barely rated a warm-up.

It was the man who led them, who was going to be the wrench in the plan.

He was tall, broad and well-muscled. His face was swarthy and tanned, littered with numerous scars which attested to the man's status as an incomparable soldier. Close cropped dark hair lent a militaristic aura, which was further emphasized by sunken, flinty eyes which seemed to sear into anyone's soul with their mere gaze. His beard was trimmed into a simple goatee, which was nonetheless impressive on the man. A blood-chilling fierce smile, reminiscent of the late Pirate King, completed the intimidating look. Dressed in a simple shirt and suit, with a Vice Admiral's overcoat thrown over his shoulders.

This man was Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, hero of the marines and the closest thing that Pirate King had to a rival. He was the only one tenacious and skilled enough to chase after the Pirate King and even engage him in combat on multiple occasions.

The man looked visibly surprised to see the Dark King standing in front of him, before he schooled his expression back to his usual jovial arrogance.

"Rayleigh! Bwhahah!" the man laughed, "Fancy meeting you here! Last I saw you; you were still trying to pull yourself off the mast from where I ran you through."

"Well, here I am. Though I distinctly remember your sorry self being hauled away by your subordinates, isn't that right?"

"Bah", he scoffed, waving away the old memory, "That was just a lucky shot; you won't get another chance like that, Dark King!"

The pony-tailed marine perked up on hearing the title and turned to look incredulously at the still-grinning Garp.

"Wait! Do you mean to say that this man is the feared First Mate of the Pirate King? This is the Dark King?"

"Hah! Of course he is! No one else on the four seas is unfortunate enough to have an ugly mug like his." He taunted with a grin plastered on his face. "Oh, forgive me, where are my manners, this one here is called Pudding-Pudding, and the tall one over there is our very own Strawberry." Garp introduced, ignoring the flat looks that everyone was sending towards him.

"Will your idiocy know no bounds, Garp? Though I'm not surprised to find you between strawberries and puddings…you always were a glutton for stuff like that." Silvers said as he chuckled at his own pun.

"Yeah yeah, it was just that one time. Feel free to stop mocking me about that every time we meet. Besides, why are _you_ here? Your boss died over a week ago, and in case you were wondering, I made sure that he was given a proper burial at sea."

Silvers inclined his head in respect, "Ah, so that was your handiwork. I did wonder whether old Kong suddenly grew a heart. As for why I am here, that one is an easy answer. I'm organizing a prison break."

That was apparently too much for the Marine Captain Strawberry, who glared at the Dark King and thrust his finger challengingly, "Don't just stand there and declare your vile intentions like that! In the name of Absolute Justice, I will apprehend you, you villain!"

Next to him, Garp just slapped his palm against his forehead in exasperation, while the other captain tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Silvers threw his head back and laughed, "This one is new, eh Garp?"

"Yeah, fresh off the boat from the training school. I'm supposed to show these landlubbers the ropes and ease them into the life of a marine."

"Consider this their graduation exam then."

"Well, this has been fun and all, but you of all people should know that I cannot just-" Garp began to speak before being cut off by the ringing call of a baby den-den mushi.

"Ah, sorry. Forgive me. I better take this call." Garp apologized, searching around in his pockets for the snail. Silvers just waved his apology away.

"Hello, this is Garp. Yeah? Oh, is that so? What do you mean that all of you are being held hostage? What about the auction guy…oh okay, he is dead then?Such a pity. Okay, okay, I'll be there, just keep calm. Do avoid wetting yourself again though? That's just shameful. Bye!"

Garp concluded with a cheery goodbye, cutting the call off, and then looked towards an entirely too amused Silvers with annoyance.

"You had something to do with this nonsense, didn't you? No, don't bother answering, who else could it be? Just what do you aim to accomplish here, eh?"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Silvers mockingly waggled his finger, as if scolding a small child. "That would be telling. Now go be a good little minion and save your precious nobles' asses from the fire. Take your puppies with you too."

"Bah, you are just lucky that the bastard Shiki got to me before you, or I would have dealt with you right here and now!"

"Shiki attacked you? One would have thought that a ship's wheel through the head would have killed him."

"Yeah, but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Besides, the wheel didn't go all the way through. It stuck partway, and now he wears that thing around like a damned tiara. The hardheaded idiot stormed Marineford all by himself, about two weeks ago."

"Hmm, go on, go on. Don't skim on the interesting parts."

Garp motioned to start talking again, before growling and pointing comically towards Silvers, "You! Don't try to distract me now. If those nobles come to harm, Sengoku will be on my case, and I can only listen to his lectures so much before wanting to go on a long long voyage away from it all."

"Then why don't you? You know as well as I do about what exactly is being traded behind those closed doors. Is that your Justice?"

"It's not. It's not just at all, I know…but flawed as it is, the World Government's Justice is the only thing keeping these anarchic seas in a semblance of law and order. Without that, the islands will soon sink to become dens of lawlessness and debauchery." Garp said quietly, his head down, looking away from Silvers.

"Strawberry, Pudding…delay Silvers as long as you can. I'll be back soon to reinforce you both." Garp commanded, as he punched through a wall and rushed towards the underground auction house.

The two newly minted officers looked blankly at their superior's retreating form, and then looked at each other, gulping audibly at the prospect of fighting against the Dark King.

Playing upto his part, Silvers grinned a wide, toothy grin, his eyes shadowed with hidden malice, "You both didn't really think that you were going to delay me for even a second, did you?" he asked even as his eyes flashed as he let loose a sharp burst of the Conqueror's Haki, overwhelming the two.

Silvers grinned in satisfaction as the two slumped over, senseless to the world.

"And that takes care of that." He remarked carelessly, reaching down to pull the cell keys off from one of the bodies.

* * *

**~oO Iskandar Oo~**

Standing over the cowering wretch, I finally recognized the wisdom that a grizzled old soldier had once imparted to me. If I remember correctly, I was about sixteen at the time and we were just returning from suppressing a minor Thracian rebellion. I had named the first ever city after my own name: Alexandropolis, which had caused a bout of good-natured laughter among all present.

While riding on Bucephlaus, this veteran cavalryman sidled up to me and started to chatter, remarking that it was a day of firsts for me, my first rebellion, first city…and considering the rumors floating about my encounter a few hours before, my first woman. With all these out of the way, I was considered to be man enough to learn an eternal secret.

The way he put it, there are two things, that when broken always cause pain: Heart and Promises; and there are two things, that when broken always give pleasure: Hymens and Wills of fools.

I had dismissed the so-called wisdom as the ramblings of a bawdy soldier…but now, as I stood triumphant, I had understood what the old veteran had been trying to tell me.

Satisfied that I would face no resistance from the nobles, I felt safe enough to turn my back towards them, and bent down to pull out the masterkey from around the cooling corpse's neck. Swiftly, I unlocked the restraints on the dancer girl, who still looked torn between fright and hero-worship, and tossed the key to her, motioning her to set the others free.

She looked at the key nestled in her palms, scarcely believing that it was real…I doubted that the fact that she was finally free had even sunk in yet. Sure enough, her hands flew to her throat, noting the lack of the exploding collar with a growing sense of hope. First came the tears, and then came the smile…the beautiful smile that only comes after tears, like sun rising from behind the clouds after a thunderstorm. Sniffling and smiling wanly, she wiped her eyes hurriedly on the sleeve of her flimsy dress and scurried away to help her fellow captives.

I relaxed my stance and crossed my arms behind my head as I smiled broadly, content in the success of one part of the plan.

By now, at least one of the assembled curs would have sent out a message to the higher-ranked officers…and seeing as how these nobles were apparently high-value individuals, the upper echelons of the Marines would be sent after me. Even now, Shanks and Buggy would have incited a riot at the docks by now, engulfing the lower levels of the marines in the ensuing confrontation, which would allow Silvers ample distractions to infiltrate the prison and organize a breakout and get away with it unmolested.

After this, Silvers and his motley crew would take advantage of the enfolding chaos to take over the ship. Once they succeeded, they were going to fire volleys upon the prison, which would be the signal for me, Buggy and Shanks to make good our escape.

So for now, I had to wait…wait and prepare for the imminent attack. And sure enough, there it was.

The walls broke apart as a tall, muscular man charged in. Impressed, I looked over the man, with equal parts curiosity and interest. He was powerful, certainly, and possessed enough natural strength to tear down walls by merely knocking them down with his shoulders. Despite this feat of strength, he didn't look the slightest bit exhausted.

"I…don't know you?" the man half-asked, returning my curious stare with one of his own. "Who the hell are you?" he asked bluntly.

It was a question I was glad to give an answer to. None should be withheld from knowing the glory of the king.

"I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors!" I rejoined, striking a powerful image as I crossed my arms over my chest grandly.

"No, doesn't ring a bell."

I gritted my teeth in the face of such blunt ignorance.

"That doesn't matter anyway. I'm supposed to save these guy from a big brute who is holding them hostage…that you?"

Again. I was called a big brute again. Notwithstanding the fact that the man before me was just as tall and heavily built. It must be the scars. Or maybe my unkempt mane of hair.

By the Olympians! My mother was right all along, wasn't she?

"Hostage? No. A hostage implies that I am withholding their release in exchange for something valuable…but from what I can see, they are so worthless that I wouldn't be able to get a thimble full of manure in exchange for the lot."

The man laughed, "Hah, I like you. But you are also setting these prisoners free. Like it or not, they are the property of the Government, and I cannot simply allow you to take them."

"We will see about that." I replied, scratching my beard as I mulled his words over.

"Tahira!" I commanded the dancer girl, "hurry up and take the back exits and move straight to the docks. Stay out of sight. At least one of my friends will meet you there. Now hurry!"

The girl nodded furtively and seemed to double her speed at opening locks after my command. Leaving her to the task, I straightened and let my hands fall to the sides.

"The docks, eh? Just what are you planning?" The man asked me. Naturally, I didn't reply and instead summoned both my swords in each hand. If he was canny at all, my message was loud and clear.

"So that's how it is. You are either brave or a fool if you think you can challenge me and get away with it. I am Monkey D. Garp , and I am going to bring you in. If I defeat you, I am going to beat you down so badly that the only thing you will conquer is a hospital bad."

I grinned in response and just said a single word, "If."

The man's bloodthirsty smirk seemed to increase to truly inhuman proportions as he readied his fist.

And with that, our battle began.

* * *

**~oO Silvers Oo~**

The breakout had gotten off without a hitch, and had yielded results better than Silvers' conservative estimates. After being broken out, several prisoners had run off on their own. They were the fools, as there was no escape route off the island and they would all soon be reprehended. The cannier prisoners knew that their best bet was to go along with Silvers. Once he had revealed his identity, the weight of his and his captain's legend was enough to obtain cooperation.

Off the lot, there were about four dozen experienced sailors, who could be counted on when the seas got too rough. Another few dozen were familiar enough with ships that they could perform the minor tasks with ease. The rest were just riff-raff, useless for all but as additional cannon fodder, but right now they would do.

They did make for an odd sight as they stalked through the outskirts of the city. The locals, who had all barricaded themselves in after hearing the commotion at the docks, did not notice the large coterie pass through their city.

Amidst the desperate melee ensuing between the smugglers and the marines, no one took notice when men started to board the _Adamant_ in twos and threes from the opposite end.

Silvers ordered some of the intimidating sailors to start getting the ship ready to sail, they only had about half an hour before the tides changed, allowing the ship to sail away safely from the shallow harbor. As the sailors prepared the riggings and the sails, the common bandits and assorted troublemakers raided the armory below deck and started to pass the numerous muskets, pistols and swords around. A few began to load the cannons with powder and shot, readying themselves according to Silvers' instructions.

Seeing that the preparations were well underway and no longer needing his supervision, Silvers snuck back down to quell the dwindling skirmish, which now resembled a petty squabble. With barely an exertion, the belligerent parties were all decked out on the wharf, knocked out cold.

With that, the docks were emptied of all personnel, except the ones brought by Silvers. A few minutes later, the two boys returned, pulling along the slaves rescued by Iskandar. While the rest of them hurried away towards the ship, one of them, a tall graceful girl remained behind long enough to pass on the message to Silvers: that Vice Admiral Garp was now battling her red-haired savior, Iskandar.

Trusting in the ability of his friend, Silvers could do nothing but wait.

* * *

**~oO Iskandar Oo~**

"What the hell do you eat? That last punch had had to hurt!" the man known as Garp barked out at me, before he once more tried to grapple me to get under my guard.

Snarling, I lashed out with a kick to loosen his grip and smashed the hilt of my sword against his nose, breaking it.

"You are one to talk, you haven't even bled freely yet!" I shouted back as the man regained his bearings from the sudden shock.

"Hate to say it, but whoever you are, you are damn fun to fight against!"

"I told you already, my name is Iskandar! Remember it!" I retorted and lashed out with a flurry of furious, relentless sword strikes. Impossibly enough, the man weathered them all using naught but his fists.

We had been fighting back and forth like this for what seemed like hours now, though in reality only minutes had passed. Our initial trading of blows had leveled the auction house around us, and even as we took it outside, the simpering nobles and the slaves made good their escape. I didn't spare a thought for either of them; my sole focus was on the man before me.

If I had to compare the man, he would be like the Berserker of the Grail War. No matter what you did, he just didn't stay down and got back up, taking advantage of every opening that he could find. Judging from the semi-insane grin and the battle-frenzy in his eyes, this man before me wasn't too far from that state either.

Eyes clouded in chaos, mind caged in madness.

Whenever I increased the intensity of my strikes, his punches increased in viciousness and brutality. At the level that we were now fighting, the force of his punches was so great that their passing tore up the ground below. Even a single hit was capable of leveling entire buildings. On my part, I wasn't holding anything back either. Despite the man's best efforts, not a single one of his attacks met their mark.

At least until he started throwing the cannonballs.

My last slash had thrown the man clear, crashing him into a building, which turned out to be the marine armory. There he gathered up the heavy ammunition and began throwing them towards me.

His actions had seemed ridiculous to me until one of the cannonballs hit my leg dead-on, crushing the bones with blunt force trauma. Somehow, the man was able to throw the missiles with a speed and a force greater than what could be achieved by cannon.

One of my legs might have been rendered useless, but I was not so easily defeated. Now that I knew what to expect, it was just a question of dodging and deflecting. Gaining ground steadily albeit slowly, I closed the distance between the two of us. As soon as I was near enough, I tackled the man down with all of my remaining strength and held him in a headlock. Bringing up my knee, I smashed the man's face, dislodging several of his teeth, but cracking my own kneecap as well.

Even after this, the man was still not down. Roaring at the top of my lungs, I grabbed his head and brought it down against a cannon. Again and again and again.

At last, his struggles stopped as he slumped in my grip. Slackening my hold on him, I let him drop, his face covered in blood. It actually looked worse than what it probably was. His chest was still rising and falling, which meant that he was still breathing…but for now, he was dealt with.

Lying amongst the shattered piles of metal, powder and blades, I was treated to the view of the prison exploding spectacularly, vaporized by the continuous volley of the mighty cannons of the _Adamant_.

It was my cue to leave, the signal that the ship was departing for the harbor…but for the life of me, I couldn't muster up the energy to walk away on my broken feet.

* * *

**~oO Silvers Oo~**

By now, the alarms had started to blare all over Loguetown, brought about after the prison had been blasted apart. The tides had started to swell in, and the sails were being unfurled, readying the ship for departure. Shanks had already claimed the crow's nest while Buggy was inspecting the numerous cannons and armaments of the ship with slack-jawed wonder. The slaves were hiding below deck and were being fed, while the ruffians had taken up positions along the bow and the stern, covering all possible bases of a surprise attack. All that was missing was Iskandar.

And if he didn't make it in the next few minutes, he would be left behind.

A silent minute passed, then another.

From atop his perch, Shanks shouted out that all the marine forces were now heading towards the wharf.

Another minute passed.

The sailors began to mutter and shout, begging Silvers to give his permission to haul away the anchor.

Another minute passed.

Silvers came to a decision.

"You call yourselves sailors? Brave men and women of the sea? Don't you know the first rule of any ship? We are nothing, without our Captain." He climbed atop the deck and spoke loud enough for all to hear.

"When the Captain raises the flag, he makes a pledge, a sacred oath of commitment…to the ship and to all who sail on it. And then, so do we all. When we sail under the black flag, we made the choice to walk alongside death. We made the choice to give our all to sailing free and proud upon these endless oceans. But what is a ship without a rudder, and what is a crew without its captain?"

"Your Captain…" he paused, and took a deep breath, "Our Captain is coming. Put your faith in him. He will come, and we will escape. If he doesn't, then we stand our ground, and we fight and we die. But we are NOT leaving without him. Any yellow-bellied coward wants to disagree, leave now. If you hesitate later, I'll shoot you down myself."

No one moved. Not a single person.

Silvers nodded in satisfaction and shouted up to Shanks, "It's time now, raise the black flag. Hoist those colors high!"

With a great cheer, the marine's flag was cut down, and in it's place Iskandar's flag: a skull surmounted by eight bones, resembling a starburst around a gruesome, morbid sun, was raised.

"Now we sing! For the ship, for the crew and for the Captain! Whatever end may come, we will face it with a smile on our face and a song in our hearts! Sing for Iskandar!"

The men cheered, and Silvers himself lead the song, a song once sung by the Roger Pirates, set to a tune that every sailor worth his salt knew.

"_The King and his men, we woke the Three from their beds! We bound them in their bonds._

_The seas were ours, and by those powers, where we willed, we roamed."_

"_Yo! Ho! Haul together! Hoist the colors high!_

_Heave ho! Thieves and beggars! Never shall we die!"_

_Some men lay dead, Some are alive, others sailed on to sea._

_With the keys to their rage, and the Dragons to cage, _

_We lay on to fiddlers green!_

"_Yo! Ho! Haul together! Hoist the colors high!_

_Heave ho! Thieves and beggars! Never shall we die!"_

And so they sang, though hope seemed lost and there was no sign of Iskandar, still they sang, their uplifted voices echoing among the crashing waves.

"Marines approaching! Too many, far too many in number!" Shanks shouted in alarm, shaking them from their reverie. Grimly, every man prepared himself for the imminent fight. Only Silvers was undeterred, arms crossed as he stared grimly towards the city. Suddenly, he smirked and straightened, and bellowed out.

"Prepare for departure! Cast away the anchor! Double time it lads! Hurry! He is here! Iskandar is coming!"

In bemused joy, the crew followed the orders wordlessly.

The noises of the marines' approach seemed to grow louder with every passing moment, spurring them on to work even faster. Just as the ship began to pull out of the harbor, the entirety of the marine garrison could be seen, closing ranks as they hurried onwards. The ship was still in firing range when the marines began to take up positions to fire. Just as the captain was about to give the order to fire, their ranks dispersed as they were unceremoniously tossed away by a man charging onwards on a magnificent horse. Silvers and Shanks immediately recognized the stately figure on the horse as Iskandar and began to cheer, followed by rest of the crew.

Iskandar held his sword aloft, gleaming golden in the bright sun, as the horse jumped. Midway across the jump, the mighty steed disappeared and Iskandar fell in a trajectory, falling down hard on the deck.

"Lend me a hand, will you?" Iskandar asked, grinning sardonically towards Silvers, "I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors."

"Is that so? I am Silvers Rayleigh, known by some as the Dark King, First Mate aboard the _Adamant_."

"No, not the _Adamant_." Iskandar corrected, "This ship is the _Invictus_."

* * *

**A/N: Lots of stuff happened, so chapter late. Sorry. Will try and do better the next time. **

**PS: Thank you so much for all the reviews and favs and follows. Really grateful for all the love shown.**

**Notes:-**

**1\. Iskandar defeating Garp: to be honest, Garp was not all that enthused for the fight. Roger's request to adopt his unborn son already weighed heavily on his mind, while Shiki's attack on Marineford had occured not even two weeks ago for him. Despite how superhuman he can be, Garp was severely injured in the fight and hadn't got the chance to regroup and heal. Also, the fight was sudden and unexpected. Everytime that we have seen him, Garp has been the one to set the stage for the conflict. He plans out attacks, prepares for them and plots out how to use the terrain and surroundings to his advantage. In short, every battle that Garp fights, he fights on his own terms. Here, Iskandar held all the cards, and still he was injured enough to not be able to even move after their intense battle. **

**2\. Garp's name issue: This is one thing that even I am not too sure about. According to the wikia, the dubs and the merchandise available, Garp's name's translation into English is kept as Monkey D. Garp only. I realize that his first name is Garp and his family name is Monkey, but in respect to the conventions being followed in the dubbed anime, I am going to continue with Monkey D. Garp only.  
Besides, names like Nico Robin, Nefertari Vivi, Roronoa Zoro etc float off the tongue far easier than Robin Nico, Zoro Roronoa or Vivi Nefertari.  
I am welcome to any discussions or arguments if any disagree. Feel free to PM me.**

**3\. Bucephalus' Manifestation: Iskandar's reality marble is irregular...it is dependent on the Ionioi Hetairoi's soldiers who fuel the marble from within after Iskandar invokes it, as Iskandar is not a mage himself. And their manifestation within Iskandar's mind is dependent on his Name and his Status as the King of Conquerors. the greater his legend, the better he can wield the RM. This has limits in the Nasuverse due to the whole Alaya and Gaia thing...but in OP world, there are no such limits. Theoretically speaking, Iskandar has the potential to manifest the entire 50,000 strong army. Theoretically speaking, of course.**

**Characters and Objects background:- **

**1\. Iskandar's Gambit is partly based on Howell Davis' capture of Gambia Fort, off the coast of Africa in 1718. He too posed as a Slave merchant and gained access to the Castle Commander. Then he took the man hostage while his men looted and sacked the castle. The pirates made off with a score of over 2000 pounds of silver.**

**2\. Lvneel, Goa and Dressrosa are all actual Kingdoms in One Piece Canon. **

**3\. Tahira means Good or Pure. She is partly based on Pascia, a canon slave at Sabaody.**

**4\. Cutlass is a common seafaring weapon, based on the French word Couteau, meaning knife. It was a heavy, broad weapon, as ideal for cutting through ropes and hemps as through flesh. It was also relatively easy to use, and wasn't as cumbersome as the longswords. **

**5\. Tartarus was the greek Dungeon O' Torment and Doom for the Titans and the truly wicked. Iskandar apparently thinks that the Nobles of the One Piece world belong in there. **

**6\. Go to the crows was a serious insult in Ancient Greece. The Greeks were all gung-ho about proper cremation and burials. To tell someone to 'Go to the Crows' meant that you hoped that their body will be consumed by the scavenging crows rather than receiving proper funerary rites. Ouch.**

**7\. Iskandar's threat 'You exist because I allow it, you will die because I demand it' was lifted word for word from Sovereign's Speech from Mass Effect 1. A completely unforgettable moment in the game**

**8\. Strawberry and Pudding-Pudding are actual canon characters too. Pudding was a Commodore of the 77th Divison, and was killed after he foolishly attacked Arlong head-on. Strawberry is a Vice-Admiral and is first seen during the Enies Lobby arc. Knowing Garp's penchant for destruction and waywardness, it's plausible that Sengoku foisted the two off on him, in a bid to make Garp more responsible. Besides, Strawberry, Pudding was just too good a pun to pass up.**

**9\. Shiki's attack on Marineford is canon too. He had stormed the HQ, angered when he heard that they had managed to 'capture' Roger. There, he slaughtered countless soldiers until he was accosted by Sengoku and Garp. After a long and hard-fought battle, Shiki was defeated and imprisoned.**

**10\. The Thracian Rebellion was the 16 year old Alexander's first taste of war. While Phillip was off gallivanting and being a general dick, the Thracians rose up in arms. Alexander, who was the regent at the time, quelled them easily. Then in a display of colossal arrogance, he renamed the defeated city as Alexandropolis, just like his father had done ages ago. Alexander had a lot of Daddy issues. **

**11\. Bucephalus was the loyal horse and lifelong companion of Alexander. He died in the battle of Hydaspes, a few months before his master's demise. **

**12\. Olympia was the mother of Alexander. She was a member of the cult of Dionysus…that is to say, imagine Chandler Bing's mom and ramp up the sexuality by a factor of hundred. Needless to say, Alexander had a bunch of Mommy Issues too. **

**13\. The 'IF' quip was an actual historical incident too. Phillip, father of Alexander had planned to invade Laconia, better known as Sparta. He sent them a threatening missive saying that: 'If I enter Sparta, I will level it to the ground.' The Spartans sent back a message saying: 'If'. After such a massive zinger, Phillip and later Alexander, both left the Spartans well alone. **

**14\. The song being sung by Silvers is called 'Hoist the Colors', and is composed by Hans Zimmer for the third Pirates of the Carribean movie. The lyrics are changed somewhat. Silvers' version is based on the Roger Pirates' own adventures, and refers to the Three Weapons: Pluton, Uranus and Poseidon, that Roger likely unearthed or discovered by understanding the Poneglyphs. With the power of that knowledge backing them, it is no surprise that they ruled the seas. It also sneaks in a reference to the Will of D, it being the key to the Celestial Dragaons' rage, and being their natural enemy, the Bearers of the Will of D are also the Dragons' cage. **

**15\. Bucephalus was indeed manifested as a part of Iskandar's Reality Marble. With the crew backing him, and his soon to be infamous deeds, he regained enough of a name to manifest his oldest and most loyal friend, if only for a very short time. **

**16\. Adamant was said to be a mineral with properties similar to a diamond, or a lodestone. As a noun, Adamant refers to something that is immovable, unshakable and inflexible…on the other hand, Invictus is something or someone that can never be conquered. No matter what adversity, no matter what trials or tribulations, that which doesn't bow can rightfully be called Invictus. A fitting name for Iskandar's ship. **

* * *

**That's all for now. Next chapter: New plans are laid down, bounties are accrued and enemies are made. **

**Coming soon...**


	5. Batten Down the Hatches

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. Mutual Funds are subject to market risks. Please read your offer documents carefully before investing.**

**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it.**

* * *

**'that's a juicy steak' : mental thought**

**"That steak is juicy!": spoken words**

**'**_**Weigh, hey and up she rises! Early in the morning!" **_**: Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote**

* * *

**-=Folio Epsilon ****ε****: Batten down the Hatches=-**

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all.  
Infinite in distance, and unbound by death. I release thy soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee. "_

* * *

**~oO Iskandar Oo~**

It had been a day since the crew's narrow escape from Loguetown. The first few hours after the heist of the newly christened _Invictus _were of nail-biting stress and worry. Most of the ragtag bunch still couldn't believe their good luck in escaping the clutches of the marines and the nobles, those furtively grasping claws from which they knew there was no escape, while the more seasoned sailors were understandably worried about retaliation by the World Government in response to their little adventure.

The only ones unruffled by this were the two boys, Shanks and Buggy, who had seen much more in their tenure with Roger's Pirates and during the Edd War; Silvers, who feared no Marine, Admiral or otherwise, and Iskandar. While he was still severely injured from his bout with the Hero of the Marines, he was already out and about after getting an earful from his First Mate, along with a splint for his legs and a cane to hobble along. As the moon came up, bathing the tranquil seas in a milky glow, the crew began to relax...the fact of their escape finally sinking in.

Grudgingly, Silvers allowed for the rum barrels to be cracked open, but only after assigning a rotation for the guards and the lookouts. A judicious glare from the Dark King was enough to convince them how bad an idea getting drunk on the job was. Soon enough, the sea-king-oil lamps were lit up and the ovens were heated and the preparations for a feast got underway. The atmosphere was infectiously cheerful, the deck prisms intermingling the lamplight and moonlight to create an awesome spectacle below-decks, lifting the spirits of those working to keep the ship going. The food stores were raided, much to Silvers' displeasure, though he only put a foot down when the men began going overboard with the rations.

After all was said and done, the jovial banquet began in earnest. There was warm bread, soft cheese, plenty of butter and cream...most likely for the marine officers' consumption. There was plenty of fish meat, a few slabs of red meat and many varieties of fruits. The rum flowed like water, and Iskandar introduced the lot to grog, which was met with general good cheer. No one had the heart to mention it to him that they already knew a variant of grog, though made from the tropical tangerines and oranges. After the initial feeding frenzy, the crew began to quiet down, their bellies warm, a mug of liquor in hand and a song in their hearts. At this point, the musicians among the group set up a ramshackle orchestra, using their mugs and barrels for a rollicking beat and the punctuated cries of joy of the crew for their chorus. Odes to a good journey were sung, along with playful ditties and comic songs, filled to the brim with innuendo. As the crew began a soulful rendition of Bink's Sake, Silvers and Iskandar finally got enough quiet and peace to talk things over and plan out their next step. Silvers beckoned the King of Conquerors over to the helm of the ship, who shrugged off Shanks' tomfoolery and Tahira, the Alabastan dancer's company, and slowly limped up.

"Hah! Now that's what I call a celebration! Of course, it needs more men and more drunken shenanigans to get to my standard, but we're getting there, eh?", Iskandar grinned, not even a slight slur affecting his speech.

"That we are. Though you know was well as I do that we are from being comfortable." Silvers remarked, bringing out his hip-flask for a swig of rum.

"True!" Iskandar barked, "You mean the stray tail that we have picked up, yes?"

"Hmm, now that you mention it, yes, that too...though the power doesn't feel to be stronger than our Shanks here. I mean it's monstrous compared to the rank and file, but nothing that we should be worried about. However, what I do worry about is what we will do next? The ship is running for now, but without more men to fill up the positions, we will be sitting ducks for the next marine vessel that comes along."

"You are right, of course. Defeating a soldier in a one-on-one battle is another story compared to naval combat, no matter how strong we are, we might be scuppered by a lucky shot. So what do you propose we do ?" Iskandar felt prudent to ask, deferring to the other man's expertise on all such matters.

"I think the best bet would be to cross the Twin Capes, enter the Grand Line, and set a course straight for Water 7. I know a famous shipwright there, an old fishman called Tom. You know, he was the one who built Roger's old ship, the Oro Jackson!" Silvers elaborated with a smile, pride at his old ship shining through.

Iskandar knew better than to pry as to what happened with the ship. He was no stranger to the mindset of kings and conquerors. To a man like Roger, once he had made his mind up to give up his career as the King of all pirates and surrendered to the marines, he would have cast off all the things that made him a King. Retreat was easy when you had the option. Roger must have forced no options upon himself. To a sailor, especially one who sailed under the Pirate King, the ship would have been the ultimate pride and joy. Iskandar wasn't one to prod at obvious wounds like that, and this one seemed to be fresh still.

"This Tom would be able to help us?"

"Of course. He is a wizard with all things that float on these raging seas. If nothing, he probably can re-outfit the _Invictus_. Probably add in some modifications for the ship, increasing it's sailing capabilities. Maybe make the ship easier to control even with a skeleton crew running things. Besides, Water-7 is home to many experienced mariners. We can probably get many people to join up with us there. We can also resupply and buy up more stock for a longer voyage. I swear, these ne'er-do-wells have eaten up half the bloody board that the ship was carrying." Silvers groused, looking pointedly at Buggy and Shanks who had begun an eating contest of sorts, cheered on by the loose circle of people that had formed around them.

Iskandar laughed heartily at that, "They remind me of myself and my Somatophylakes."

"Tomato-what?" the Dark King asked, fumbling over the strange new word.

"Not Tomato, Somato. Somato-Phy-Lakes. the word literally means, my Bodyguards. There were seven of them, hand-picked by me, groomed for the role since we were children together, learning under our grizzled old bastard of a teacher. Of course, as time went on, some died, but there always were seven. Of course, I had to go and upset the cart when I named an eighth one after a battle, but oh well." Iskandar remarked off-handedly, casually dismissing the stray comment, "These two have the same bond, no matter how much they might deny it. Sure, they are unrepentant goofballs now, but I can stake my claim that they will go on to be something great, some day."

"Even Buggy?" Silvers questioned, amusement coloring his voice.

Iskandar looked at the blue-haired boy, whose arms and one leg were being juggled by Shanks, much to general laughter, while hopping up and down indignantly on one leg, yelling profanities all time.

"...Then again, I have been wrong before."

* * *

Silvers had wisely decided to enter the Grand Line from the Reverse Mountain, shooting down Iskandar's suggestion of simply storming through Mariejois, straight into the new world. Soon enough, the light of Crocus' tower came to view, the old doctor having hidden himself away in his grief at Roger's death, or perhaps he hadn't yet returned to his home in Twin Capes. Whatever be the reason, they couldn't locate the old man, though they did spot the massive Island Whale, Laboon, as he was called, at a distance. It was Iskandar's first experience with the unnatural creatures that inhabited the world, and his reaction did not disappoint. The journey up the Reverse Mountain was unremarkable with Silvers at the helm, and he had dealt with worse navigational conditions.

The first sight of the Grand Line, after the tranquil and quiet East Blue sea was an experience all on it's own, and Silvers could see the glimmer of excitement and undercurrent of a brand new adventure shining through the eyes of all, his eyes reflecting the same. He looked askance at Iskandar, who had propped his bad leg up on a crate, and looked intensely on the vast ocean, his hands folded calmly across his chest while a fierce grin played upon his lips. He looked every inch a commander, ready to take on the world, if needs be. Which reminded him-

"Hey ! Captain!"

"Yes? Is there something you need to speak to me about?"

"Now that we are here, in the Pirate's Graveyard, what do you think we should do to explain you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play me for a fool Captain. A no-name rookie pirate just happens to come along, merely days after Roger is executed, who has enough strength to match and even defeat one of their strongest marines! That alone would have been enough to spook them, but we exacerbated that by successfully stealing the crown jewel of their current ships! They are not going to take this lying down Iskandar."

"So? They will fight me, and they will lose. Especially after this beautiful ship of ours is reconfigured by your shipwright friend. I do not think that they will be able to match us unless they send out their entire arsenal to bring us down."

"They wont't need to. They will simply put out a massive bounty on your head, on our heads! Granted, I doubt most bounty hunters will be merely an annoyance, but attrition like that builds up, Iskandar. Sooner or later, we will trip up...make a mistake...and that will be all that they need. Besides, there is the question of your strange powers as well."

"What of it? I fail to see what will rile them up further about that?"

Silvers struggled for a moment to find the right words to say what was troubling him, before clearing his throat and beginning to speak hesitantly, "_I _do not understand your powers completely Iskandar, let alone anyone else. All they know for now is that you have a high grade of strength and endurance, at the very least comparable to Garp. Garp might report that you have Observational and Armament Haki, because that is what he will take away as feedback from your little scrap with him, he doesn't know any better. I know for a fact that you have the Conqueror's Haki. Raw, untrained, but it is there...and it's strong. Then there is the question of your sword, and your horse...how do you explain that?"

"When you put it in that way, I can see why you are rightly apprehensive of the Government's response. As for my sword-", Iskandar spoke, materializing the Sword of the Kupriotes in a glimmer of light, "-It is the least of what I can do, at least for now. There is more to my abilities, but I am rather cut off from accessing my entire power as of now. I will regain it, but it will take time and a lot of effort. Can't we cover it up by passing it off as one of your Devil Fruits? From what I have heard, you have Devil Fruits that possess the strangest of abilities, many of which manifest in a multitude of weird ways."

Silvers looked intrigued at the possibility. "You might be on to something there. I have heard of a mafia hitman who has at least something similar. From what I can tell, he uses the Castle-Castle Fruit, allowing him to basically be a walking armory. We don't even need to define your devil fruit, just start the rumor of you possessing the power of one and let them draw their own conclusions. If they do take the bait, you will have the benefit of them underestimating you while out at sea, believing you to be vulnerable when you are not."

"There you go! Now if there is nothing else, I'd like to retire to my quarters for now. Do send someone to call me if there is an emergency."

"Of course, but why are you off to your cabin all of a sudden? Don't tell me you are tired."

"Hah!" Iskandar barked out a short laugh, before turning slyly to nod towards Tahira, who was lounging around the cabin door. "I simply need to complete an energy-exchange ritual."

Laughing, Iskandar limped off to his cabin, the svelte Alabastan dancer following him moments after, glancing surreptitiously for any onlookers.

Sighing to himself, Silvers shook his head in mock-despair, his thoughts going for a moment to a certain irascible bartender, still awaiting him in Sabaody. Clearing himself of his idle thoughts, Silvers mentally started preparing a lecture for Iskandar about the rules against fraternizing with the crew.

* * *

**Vicinity of Cactus Island**

After a few days of steady travel, the _Invictus _was nearing it's first island, Cactus Island, home to the town of Whiskey Peak, a small settlement famed for the alcohol they brewed from the produce of their farms. The crew had decided to have a small stop-over here and trade in some of the excess weapons they had stored in the armory in exchange for food and drink. Iskandar was standing atop the deck, discussing general geography of the land with one of the crew, who was engaged in seriously washing the boards, all the while answering his Captain's incessant questions. Contrary to what one might think, he had a big smile on his face, happy to satisfy his captain's curiosity.

Buggy was belowdecks, helping to organize the trade items, sorting through the weapons and choosing the best ones for the crew's own use. Despite his goofy demeanor and all-round air of incompetence that he executed, the clown-themed boy was surprisingly astute when it came to weaponry and organization. Exactly opposite to Shanks, who was a fearsome fighter in his own right but had no sense at all when it came to the nitty-gritty of running things. Both of them were quite happy in the new situation that they found themselves in. Had it not been for Iskandar's abrupt arrival into their lives, they likely would have parted ways from each other and from Silvers and would have set off on their own journeys as Captains of their own crews. While neither would accept it, both were relieved that they could put that daunting thought off for some time more.

Under Roger, they had been Cabin-boys, mere recruits who were learning the ropes of being on a ship and of being a pirate of the high seas, but under Iskandar, they could finally be part of the ship, part of the crew. After seeing the strength of their new captain, the two were convinced that they would grow by leaps and bounds under his tutelage, only making them stronger whenever they would choose to go independent and set out with their own ships.

Meanwhile, up on the crow's nest, Silvers was having a rare moment of relaxation on a busy ship like the _Invictus._ The crew, bolstered by the presence and cheerful encouragement of their Captain was working diligently. The ship was on course and the seas were calm, with not even a distant storm on the horizon. His reverie was disturbed by the loud wail of a News Coo flying overhead. Sighing, he dug into his pockets for some loose change to pay the bird even as the avian in question landed on his shoulder, dropping the newspaper in his lap.

As expected, the news headlines were filled with reports about the heist of the former _Adamant_, and were filled with eye-witness accounts of the prison break as well as the scuffle at the docks. Silvers noted with a jaundiced eye that there was no mention of either the human auctioneering racket, nor of Garp's defeat at Iskandar's hand. It was par for the course, as far as the World Government went, demonize other's sins while shoving their own under the carpet. However when he turned the page, a thick-set envelope fell down from in-between.

Curious, he picked the official-looking envelope, his eyes widening in astonishment as he took in the official Marine seal that it had been closed with, as well as addressed to a 'Iskandar II of Goa', realizing with grim amusement the false identity that they had created had apparently been believed by the Marines.

Jumping down from his perch, Silvers brandished the envelope while calling out to Iskandar, who looked up with a gleam in his eye.

"Is that it , Silvers? Our new bounties?" he asked with a smirk. Having heard about how bounties acted as bragging rights among pirates, he had been looking forward to see how dearly the powers-that-be valued his head.

"I don't think so, had it been merely bounties, we would have got the wanted posters as pamphlets, just like everyone else. This however, is addressed to you specifically. It's from the Marines."

"I wonder what it could be...give it here, I'll read it out aloud for everyone. Oi! Everyone! Gather round, the Marines send their love!" Iskandar said aloud, catching the attention of everyone on the ship. Soon, anyone who wasn't working on a critical activity answered the call and assembled around the King of Conquerors.

* * *

_To,_

_The presumed noble, Iskandar the Second of the Kingdom of Goa,_

_It has come to my attention that it was you who was the instigator behind the nefarious attacks on Loguetown. As you might know, your actions have resulted in massive losses and many casualties. You also stand accused of stealing the Marine Ship, the Adamant. These crimes alone will see you hang whenever you will be caught._

_However, there are other factors that need to be considered before I bring that dark destiny upon your head. I have a Vice-Admiral vouch for your strength, as well as numerous Captains and a few notable figures. By all accounts, you have demonstrated remarkable strategy, planning and initiative, despite your venture being as despicable as it is. Also, importantly, you have been spotted with the noted pirate Silver Rayleigh, whose litany of crimes are too numerous to list here. What is noteworthy is that the Pirate Rayleigh appeared to defer to your judgement. This gives me pause._

_I'll be honest with you, you are too dangerous to be left alone. I have seen Roger rise and fall, I have followed Edward Newgate's career in piracy with growing anger and disbelief, I have seen many many rookie pirates and Roger imitators be cut down before they could embark on their misguided careers...but never has anyone dared to do what you have done. No one has had the audacity to do what you have successfully pulled off , in what seems to be your first venture in the world of crime. That makes you a problem. However, you seem to have the silent support of the Pirate Rayleigh, who regardless of your own strengths, has been a thorn in the side of the marines for too long. It is necessary to reign you in, but the presence of Silvers Rayleigh makes this a troublesome venture._

_So I propose to do this. I have been in talks with the World Government about a new program which we have decided to implement. We are calling it the Shichibukai Program, under which, seven powerful pirates will be hand-picked and invited by us to join our ranks as allies. If you agree, you will be given the title of Oka Shichibukai, identifying you as one of the Royal Seven Warlords of the Sea. You will be given rights and privileges in accordance to a Marine Captain, which include access to Sea-Stone Weaponry, permission to use the Tarai Current, permission to utilize the resources of any Marine Base within reason, as well as permission to invade and plunder any ship, convoy or land not affiliated with the World Government, as long as the World Government gets a share of no less than thirty percent of the plunder. Agreeing to this also means that your previous crimes will be pardoned, as well as crimes of your subordinates will be wiped clean. However, you will be required to answer the call when the Marines and the Government have need of you. Be warned that losing your Shichibukai status means that you will no longer be an ally, and will be treated as just another pirate. _

_I'd suggest you accept. This offer will not be extended again. _

_Marine Fleet Admiral _  
_Kong_

* * *

The letter was greeted with absolute silence. No one knew how to react to something so extraordinary and so unprecedented. Silvers could see in the eyes of many that they were tempted, sorely tempted to accept the offer. They could see the possibility of riches, impunity, safety and comfort that such a status would provide, and honestly, Silvers couldn't blame them. It was however, not their decision to make. It was not even his. The weight of that decision rested with Iskandar, and Iskandar alone.

The man in question was looking incredulously at the letter, surprised at the contents, "Silvers! Is this common? Has there been any kind of precedent for it?" he asked.

"No," Silvers answered slowly, "the World Government has always had Absolute Justice as it's philosophy when dealing with pirates. Which basically boils down to no mercy, no quarter."

"Then what do you reckon is the idea behind this? Running scared?"

"Pretty much, " Shanks agreed, "We kicked their ass!" That earned him another fist to the head. A well deserved one.

Silvers glared at the boy trying to pull up his straw-hat, "Regardless of how impertinent that interruption was, he isn't wrong. Roger has sparked a new revolution in the world of piracy. Every man, woman and child who can sail a boat will soon set out in a bid to claim the One Piece."

"And the Fleet Commander tries to buy me off to do his dirty work for him. That's it, isn't it?"

"More or less. You are the first to burst into the scene after Roger, and currently the most high-profile one. Of course, there are other famous Pirates like Old Whitebeard, but they are content in the lives they are currently leading. I doubt that would change. They are well-established, holding dominion over vast swathes of the ocean and have numerous underlings, bringing in countless wealth. But you, you are the symbol of the new order now, so it's obvious that the Marines want you on their side."

"Hah, such is the curse of being a trailblazer. It's like Caesar all over again. At least my nose is intact this time around." Iskandar mused idly, a hard stare entering his eyes, "At any rate, it does make strategic sense. Set pirates upon each other, while holding the reigns of your personal lapdogs. Having good lapdogs on a leash does ensure fewer mutts around the courtyard. Some mutts might want to be the next lapdog, so they will try to drive even more mongrels away, hoping for a pat on the back and a gold leash around their necks. Little do the lapdogs know, that when their master tires of them, the leash will grow tighter and tighter until their neck snaps and rolls on the ground."

Iskandar crumpled the letter up angrily in his fist, "and this, Fleet Admiral Kong, dares to believe that he has the gall to leash **me**! Sooner a noose than a leash. If this man thinks that he has a tether big enough to enchain my neck, he better start unbuckling his belt too."

"So what will you do about it?"

Iskandar sighed, visibly closing a lid on his anger at the slight given to him by the Fleet Admiral, "I'll leave it be for now. This demands a proper answer, and I find myself at a loss of words to say at the moment."

"Fair enough, " Silvers agreed amiably, "As for you lot, the show is over, get back to your posts. Start preparations for docking immediately, we are land-bound."

There were a few scattered mutterings in the crowd, but on the whole most of them agreed with Iskandar. The slaves especially. They had seen the justice of the World Government and understood how unreliable and worthless it was.

"Silvers? Where is the nearest Marine-base?"

"Well, there is one in Fuko island."

"Very well then, after we finish here, set a course for Fuko Island."

"What do you intend to do?"

"I find myself at a loss for words Silvers. That condescending, aggravating letter has been disgraceful. My mentor always told me that Actions spoke louder than Words. So that's precisely what I'll do."

"and what is it that you precisely plan to do?"

"I'll let my actions send my message."

* * *

**The Town of Whiskey Peak**

If one were to describe the small borough of Whiskey Peak, it would be unremarkable. Or perhaps Quaint. But that was to be expected, it was never an ideal place for commerce, there was just something about those strange cactus shaped mountains that was disturbing, not to mention all the tombstones that lined the mountainside. All told, there were less than five hundred settlers living in the town at any given time. It didn't matter to them as they were rather self-sufficient, having their own farms for grain and meat. It had a rather constant climate for the Grand Line, which meant a reliable, constant source of fresh water. The only unique thing they traded was the whiskey that they made from a blend of roasted barley and wheat, giving the town it's name.

However this meant that they were vulnerable to raiders, bounty hunters and pirates, who occasionally invaded the little town, so they always had need for ammunition, fresh steel, guns and other such armaments. Which is why the crew of _Invictus _was greeted with open arms upon their arrival.

Iskandar had relayed the order to hoist the white variant of his pirate flag, indicating that the crew came in peace. Despite this, they were initially met with rusty bayonets pointed towards them. However, once Iskandar stepped in, explaining the situation to the suspicious natives, tensions eased and before long the crew was feasting on simple home-cooked meals, generously supplied by the acting-mayor of the town. It was nothing but a bit of warm bread served along a bowl of piping-hot stew, but as any sailor would tell you, a day with good hot home-cooked food is a good day indeed.

As the rank and file ate, Iskandar and the ship's officers, that is to say, Silvers, Buggy and Shanks joined the Mayor in his own home to discuss further trade. Iskandar had already stocked the makeshift armory of the town with ample ammunition and few bombs. He had also supplied a hundred units of swords, a hundred halberds and two hundred pistols. All that in exchange for sufficient food and drink to last them for a week, which would be just enough time for them to reach the Marine Base at Fuko Island. The mayor had eyes for the long-rifles that he had seen the crew wielding and was trying to make Iskandar to part with them, much to his bemusement.

"I simply don't understand you, good man! Weapons are necessary for survival out here, that's true, but those rifles and it's ammunition are not anti-personnel at all! They are made of cast iron, not lead, and are designed to be used against an enemy ship, or maybe a fort. Hardly a use that you will have of it." Iskandar tried to reason against the stubborn man.

The man simply set his jaw forward and mulishly repeated his request, "Sir! We need those rifles! Every once in a while, some bampot bawbag would get the bright idea to try an' attack us, steal the good whisky and maybe get some minge while they are at it. We drive 'em off the land, only for some poor lad to be shot, or maimed, sometimes worse. I fear that if they keep chipping at us, one day we will all die out and then these no-good lowlives, pirate scum or brigands would roost here. With those rifles, we could shoot those bastards out right from the sea, be easier to fight 'em off then!" he finished, his accent getting thicker and thicker as his speech grew more impassioned.

"This is new grounds for me, Silvers, you tell me...in lawless lands like these, which marines can't be bothered to protect, how does one ensure safety?"

"Well, usually small islands are under the protection of one crime-lord or the other. Sometimes it might be the favorite holiday retreat of some big-shot criminal, or sometimes it just might be home to someone powerful. For example, I know for a certain fact that a similar village, called Foosha Village is off-limits to any criminal as it's the residence of our old friend Garp. Some pirates had banded together, around eight years ago, all for the purpose of snubbing the so-called Hero of the Marines and had invaded the village. The village was ransacked and many people were injured. When Garp saw what had happened to his precious village, he spent the next six months tracking down each and every one of those perpetrators and delivered his own brand of justice upon them. His bloodthirsty response to their attack struck fear in hearts of all those who heard. Since then, no one has even thought of picking a fight with him by harming the village."

"Aye, I've heard tell of that story too, Garp the Fist right? Heard he slaughtered them like so much varmints."

Silvers grimaced, "Yeah, just like varmints."

"That's all good and all for Foosha, but we ain't have no hero here. No one famous, except Young Long John over there. And he is famous for sailing all the way to Alubarna and having his leg bitten off by a bananagator. Hardly something that would deter would-be attackers, 'cept if they keeled over, busting a gut laughing."

"You have me!" Iskandar declared grandly, striking a heroic pose with his fist clasped tight against his chest, "You can henceforth proudly declare that the township of Whiskey Peak falls under the dominion of Iskandar, the King of Conquerors!"

"Yeah. Ain't neve' heard of you before." the Mayor deadpanned.

Iskandar settled back down, an unhappy frown on his face, "Perhaps. It's just a matter of time anyway. I will propose a deal to you, interested?"

"I'm listening."

"I will give you fifty of those long-shot rifles, in exchange for you accepting my protection and flying my flag from the town square. Agreed?"

"Fifty of those rifles, you say? and the special shot too?"

"Yes, ten rounds per rifle. I cannot spare anymore."

"Fair enough. Wouldn' hurt to fly yer flag, and I get the rifles to boot. I agree! I accept you protection."

"Then as of now, Whiskey Peak falls under my territory. Let it be known Silvers."

"I will ensure that the word gets out." Silvers assured calmly, not letting the grandiose declarations stop his stride.

"Say..." The mayor piped up, "I know I shoulda asked earlier, but I don't need to pay you taxes or tithe or something, right?"

"Usually, you would, but seeing how you would not be able to spare money that you don't have, let's just say that you give me and my crew first-rate pickings during trade. A few dinners like this won't be amiss either."

"I suppose I could do that." the Mayor agreed with a slow nod, letting a small smirk grow over his face, "So, my newly appointed liege...would you care for some cake?"

* * *

They delightful cake was not even half-eaten when the alarm bells aboard the _Invictus _began to ring wildly, growing in crescendo before abruptly tapering off.

"You reckon that's our mysterious follower then, Silvers?" Iskandar asked, putting the plate away as he stood and dusted himself off.

"Can't see how it would be anybody else. Let's go, see for ourselves."

With a nod, the four took off, running down the hill towards the docks. They passed by bemused crewmen, who were already on their feet, looking shocked at the sudden hullabaloo. As they neared the docks, the first thing they noticed that the gangplank had been lowered. The next, of course, were the bodies of the guards of the ship. Fortunately they appeared mostly unharmed, merely knocked out, the rise and fall of their chests an attestation of their continued attendance of the world of the living.

The next thing was the shadowy figure standing atop the deck, a naked sword drawn in his hand. The shadowy stranger appeared to be tall for a normal human. His stance was straight-backed, proud and confident. He wore ornate well-made clothes, their quality understated by his air of nonchalance.

"Halt! Interloper! This ship belongs to me! You trespass unjustly. Now state your purpose of this rudeness, or prepare for battle!" Iskandar declared loudly, his voice ringing out in the silence.

"I apologize if I give offence, but I have never believed in engaging in small talk before a battle. Talking in battle is the gravest of sins."

"Not saying that I disagree, but you are hardly the challenge was this to be considered a battle. Besides, as a swordsman, aren't you bound by the dueler's code to identify yourself?"

"Indeed I am, though you are mistaken if you think that I am here to challenge you. Powerful warrior you may be, but you are hardly a swordsman."

Iskandar didn't let his surprise show at that. Whoever the shadowy stranger was, he was someone highly skilled. It took good eyes to see that for all his strength, endurance and agility, sword duels weren't Iskandar's preferred form of battle. He was a competent swordsman, but nothing more. Where Iskandar truly excelled was in mounted combat, or perhaps while wielding a spear or a lance. For this man to have identified that so easily was a testament to how accomplished he was.

"Then why do you trespass upon my ship? Swordsman or not, you fight me...you die."

"I commit the indignity of trespass to merely satisfy an idle curiosity." The man spoke, slowly stepping forward from the shadows, revealing an impressively muscled physique, only covered by a floral-patterned shirt. A large wooden cross hung along his neck on a cord of simple leather. The stranger brushed back his jet-black hair, letting it be swept back rakishly, giving him an intimidating appearance. A serious-looking face with no humor leaking out from his thin, pursed lips. The presence of a wispy beard at the chin and the rough beginnings of a mustache were the only testimony to how young their offender truly was.

"I have followed your ship across the Reverse Mountain on a small boat to quell a question in my heart. I was a witness to your antics on Loguetown, but among the many questions that I may have had, one stood out : Who would win a duel, me or the straw-hat brat?" The man answered, his strange unnerving eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Shanks who was looking very very indignant at being called a brat.

"Oi ! Oi! Who are you calling a brat? You don't seem very old to me either, you insufferable bastard!" Shanks cried out, his face as bright as his hair, suffused with anger.

"Enough talking!" The young man with the fierce eyes of a hawk declared, "My name is Dracule Mihawk, Son of Calugarule Mihawk. Prepare to Die."

* * *

**(Author's Apology/ Explanatory Note : **

**And that's a wrap. Now you all deserve an explanation for my long absence. Ever heard of the story of the Djinn and the Parrot? Well, as the story goes, the Djinn takes his soul and puts it inside a parrot, effectively making himself immortal. However he doesn't that while he cannot die, but he suffers what the parrot suffers. In the end, the Djinn is killed when someone twists the neck of the parrot, killing it. **

**This story is like my own parrot it seems. In the previous chapter, Iskandar breaks both his legs and shatters his kneecap, and a couple months after writing it, I got into a bad car accident where I broke both my femurs, and sliced my knee open to the bone. As anyone who has broken bones knows how much of a bitch the healing process is. It took the better part of the year, and even now I still limp and need support while getting up after sitting down. Also, I had to leave my job and seeing as how I still need a lot of time to recuperate, I decided to pursue a Master's Degree while I was at it. Which brought me to United States, making me move for the second time in a single year. **

**So now you guys know where things stand. Chapters will be more regular now, with no more than a month in between. I might miss the dates by a week or so occasionally, depending on my Grad School schedule, but I do promise to be more regular in my updates. )**

**IMPORTANT ! PLEASE READ!**

**A/N : Here's your chance to weigh in on the story. I am giving my readers this chance to give their thoughts as to what Iskandar's bounty would be! To give you a little perspective, Iskandar has just defeated one of the more powerful marines, his recent injuries notwithstanding. He has bloodied the government's nose by stealing their prized ship, while destroying a prison, organizing a prison break, freeing captured slaves and antagonizing several nobles. All of this, merely days after Roger's execution, making his actions the first notable high-profile crime in the new Golden Age of Pirates. **

**By contrast, Luffy invaded Enies Lobby, defeated over a thousand with ease, defeated Rob Lucci and Blueno, was given the blame for destroying Enies Lobby and successfully defied the World Government by burning their flag and rescuing Robin. All of this earned him a bounty of 320 Million. **

**So let me hear your thought. **

**As always, read , review, and above all, have fun.**

**CHARACTERS AND OBJECT BACKGROUND:**

**1\. Batten down the hatches is nautical slang for 'Prepare for Trouble' **

**2\. The Chapter Quote is spoken by Pyrrha Nikos, a protagonist of RoosterTeeth's web series, RWBY. Binge watching is highly recommended. **

**3\. Grog was very popular among the sailors. It has several songs and shanties dedicated to it's glory. It was basically a mixture of Water/Small Ale, Rum and Lemon Juice, served to enlisted sailors as part of their ration. It was named after Vice-Admiral Edward Vernon, who began the practice. He wore a coat of Grogram cloth, so was wittily nicknamed Old Grog, lending the drink it's name. Fun Fact: Pirates didn't suffer from scurvy as commonly as the sailors did, mostly because they spent less time at sea, and had their diets supplemented with plenty of tropical fruits and vegetables. So they dropped the lemon juice and instead added sugar and nutmeg or cinnamon to rum, making for a tastier drink they called Bumbo.**

**4\. Bink's Sake was an old song in the One Piece world. It was supposedly more popular with the Old School Pirates. **

**5\. Alexander's parties were legendary. The dude knew how to rock a joint. It's a historical fact that Alexander was a raging alcoholic. It was a by-product of Macedonian culture which equated drinking with manhood, mommy issues, daddy issues and devotion to the cult of Dionysus, the god of wine. Which makes him not so different from the standard issue modern teenager. So Iskandar is historically correct when he claims that the party needs more drunken shenanigans.**

**6\. Somatophylakes were the handpicked bodyguards of Alexander the Great, and it was a concept that he directly stole from his dad. These 7 were Alexander's closest and most common companions, and usually held positions of power among the military structure too. One of the longest running Somatophylax (singular for Somatophylakes) was Hephaestion, Alexander's closest friend, a Patroclus to his Achilles, who died a few months before Alexander. **

**7\. The Eigth Somatophylax was Peucestas, distinguished for saving Alexander's life during the Mallian Campaign, of which the fateful Battle of Hydaspes was a highlight. **

**8\. The Mafia Hitman I'm talking about is of course, Capone Bege, who must have been 18 around the time of Roger's execution. It stands to reason that he wasn't always a pirate, as he is rather old to be a rookie. **

**9\. The Energy Exchange ritual is a long-running fanfiction joke for the H-scene in Fate/Stay Night. They overdramatize a raunchy threesome by declaring it to be a dire, need-of-the-hour "Prana Exchange Ritual". I only thought of adding it in after realizing that Capone's Devil Fruit is called the Shiro-Shiro Fruit. **

**10\. The irascible bartender is of course, Shakuyaku, of Shakky's Rip-off Bar. It is unclear when Silvers and she married, but she had given up piracy long before Roger's execution. **

**11\. Again, canon. Shortly after Roger's execution, Shanks and Buggy met up one last time, and Shanks offered Buggy to join his new crew. Buggy declined, and the two parted ways. Two years after this, Shanks meets with Yasopp, still in East Blue. Who knows what will change now that Shanks is now a part of Iskandar's crew than being his own Captain.**

**12\. Part of the ship, Part of the crew line was a thinly veiled reference to the scene in Pirate's of Carribean, At World's End. In the words of the immutable Dr King Schultz, "I'm so sorry, I couldn't resist." **

**13\. Fun Fact, Kong was the Fleet Admiral at the time, not Sengoku. Boa Hancock herself says that Shichibukai as a concept came about within the last three decades, and she is one of the earliest known ones, becoming a Warlord on her maiden voyage at the age of 18. **

**14\. The concept of Shichibukai itself is borrowed from Privateers who were nothing but trumped-up "Official" Pirates. They were given the letters of Marque and were allowed free reign as long as they didn't turn their backs on their employers. Sir Francis Drake is one the most famous of these Privateers. The fact that he is a 'Sir' is evidence of how one man's pirate is another man's privateer. **

**15\. Fuko, or Fukou means misfortune in Japanese. **

**16\. In actuality, Red Flag was the flag of no quarter, Black Flag was the flag of parley and White Flag was the flag of surrender, ceasefire or truce. But it's so ingrained in pop-culture that Black Flag means no mercy, that I didn't bother trying to fight the tide. **

**17\. Bampot means an idiot. Bawbag are the testicles. Minge is a swear for female genitalia. These are all authentic scottish swears. I asked a friend of mine who abides by their veracity. **

**18\. Young John Long is another thinly veiled reference to Long John Silver from Treasure Island, who had a peg leg. It is also phonetically similar to Yang Xiao Long, another RWBY protagonist, who was...disarmed, shall we say?**

**19\. Historically true. Alexander the Great was more of heavy cavalry, or perhaps a lanceman, but he wasn't as good with a sword. It's merely easy to kill with a well-forged sharp sword when you are swinging the thing from a tall horse and hitting the men's necks. It's a whole different story in a one on one duel. **

**20\. Dracule Mihawk is only 18-19 at this point of time, while Shanks is 16. Mihawk is still a powerful swordsman, though he doesn't have his trademark Sword at this point of time. **

**21\. Vlad III Dracul, the Impaler aka Dracula was the son of Vlad II Dracul, the Dad. Dad Dracul had another son called Vlad Calugarul. Just made sense to use it here. Since I have a crippling hatred of OCs playing a significant role in a fanfiction, rest assured that Mihawk's dad has shuffled the mortal coil already. **

**22\. Mihawk is a great swordsman, only made sense for him to use an abridged version of , "You killed my father , Prepare to Die." from the Princess Bride. **

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**That's it for now,  
Read and Review. Cheers. **


	6. The Typhon Wakes

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Neither Fate/Zero, Nor OP, nor the verses from any sea-shanties used. They belong to their respective creators. UltraBalls sold at PokeMarts are cheap mass-made knock-offs. Buy Johto-made Acorn Balls. Make Johto great again. Also, Magikarp Stews are tasty. Just Saying.**

**A/N at the end. Gives the background on some stuff, so read it. **

* * *

**'that's Akainu, that bastard' : mental thought**

**"That's the Bastard, Akainu! ": spoken words**

_**'I dreamed a dream, the other night, Lowlands! Lowlands Away, me John****" **_**: Sea shanty or an invocation, chapter quote, footnote**

* * *

**-=Folio Zeta ζ : The Typhon Wakes=-**

"_Tis' a merry life, and a short one. _  
_Had you fought like a man, you wouldn't be hanged now like a dog. "_

* * *

**~oO Invictus Oo~**

"Enough talking!" The young man with the fierce eyes of a hawk declared, "My name is Dracule Mihawk, son of Calugarule Mihawk. Prepare to Die."

Iskandar couldn't help but slam his hand to his head in exasperation, "Is this kid for real? Is this what passes for a bounty hunter nowadays?" he asked, groaning.

"Trust me, I'm as bemused as you are," Silvers reassured, "Though Calugarule...that name sounds familiar."

"Anyone important?"

"No, not terribly so. He used to be a famous swordsman from Walha Island, in South Blue. Heard that he died a decade ago though, killed in a duel."

"Ah. Any good?"

"Who? Calugarule or the guy who killed him?"

"The guy who killed him obviously. Calugarule is dead, isn't he?"

"Fair point. And no, just lucky. He had a sword, Calugarule just forgot to carry his."

"Oh. Drunk?"

"Drunk."

As Iskandar and Silvers continued their very fascinating discussion, Shanks and Mihawk stared each other down. Mihawk lazily twirled his katana in loose circles, in a bid to unnerve Shanks, who had a hand grasping the hilt of his own weapon, a boarding sabre. The two boys circled each other slowly, gauging each other's strength and trying to spot mistakes or openings to exploit.

They were both too canny a swordsman to leave any though. As if on an unspoken cue, the two readied their fighting stances. Shanks drew his blade and brought it to bear level with his head, holding it backhand with his other arm acting as the balance while his body leaned forward, knees slightly apart and bent. Mihawk on the other hand seemed to favor dueling with both hands, his hands holding his katana aloft, his stance straight-backed and proud. With nary a warning the two rushed forward and began their clash.

With impressive arm strength, Mihawk brought down his blade in a crushing, overhead swing, only to be deflected by Shanks' scabbard, who then tried to stab forwards , only for Mihawk to jump back and avoid the blow. Pressing his slight advantage, Shanks unleashed a flurry of quick slashes, aiming to disorient his adversary with the gleam of the sword. Unfortunately for him, Mihawk wasn't one to be distracted by such petty tricks and broke Shanks' guard by blocking the blade with his own and landing a shoulder strike upon him. Shanks feinted a slash and when Mihawk was within range, tried to break his nose with a pommel strike. Mihawk had to disengage his own assault to avoid the blow and retreated backwards. The two grinned up at each other, breathing heavily and then decided to kick things up a notch.

Shanks was the one to deliver the first blow this time, cutting his sword through the air, unleashing a powerful vacuum blade he called Sakegari, which was narrowly avoided by Mihawk , who responded with his own. Mihawk's retaliatory slice, which put out a torrent of compressed air blades, a move that he called Voyvoda Saldırı. Their attacks became fiercer and fiercer, each strike of their swords against the others' a resounding gong that rang true upon the endless ocean. Around the two swordsmen, the skies seemed to darken, though it mostly was the result of Armament Haki, that the two were unconsciously leaking. It was an elegant dance between warriors, no wasted speech, no frivolous flourishes or movements, just brutal , relentless onslaught. A clash of wills, where both tried to overpower the other. And this is where they stumbled, for neither had conviction behind their blades, neither had discovered the dream that would drive them through their darkest hours.

Which was why Silvers, who had had enough of this tomfoolery, waded in between their duel, grabbed their heads and knocked them together. Hard.

Mihawk reeled back from the sudden, unexpected blow while his opponent, who had been at the receiving end of these before, crumpled upon himself, hoping to avoid further punishment.

All to naught.

Silvers once again bashed the heads of the two miscreants together.

This time, they fell to the decks, lost in blissful unconsciousness.

Iskandar stared blankly at Silvers, fixing him with a questioning stare, "Was that really necessary Silvers? The two were just having a spot of fun."

"Yes. I am getting increasingly familiar with your idea of fun. However, these two rosewater sailors would have caused irreparable harm to the ship had they continued. We need this ship, Iskandar. You know we do. Besides, this ship isn't made from the wood of Adam Tree. It isn't invincible to harm. Shanks is spoiled by sailing on an Adam Wood ship. It is high time he learnt better."

"You know best Silvers. That is why you are my First Mate." Iskandar placated the annoyed man, "What do you propose we do to these two?"

Silvers grinned darkly, his eyeglasses gleaming as they caught the sun.

* * *

When Mihawk came to, he felt very very disoriented. His brain felt leaden and he found himself unable to think straight. Forcing himself to remain calm, he tried to regain some semblance of clear thought before finding a way out of whatever predicament he found himself in.

Soon, he discovered that he was unable to move. He didn't feel any sharp or jarring pains in any of his extremities, so this wasn't the result of a crippling injury. Which meant that he was tied up. Slowly, the memories of his short but intense battle with the red-haired boy came back to him. He didn't remember losing, nor did he remember winning. So sighing quietly to himself, he opened his eyes to have a better look at the situation. What he saw made his unnaturally sharp eyes widen to comical proportions.

He was tied up to the mast upon the ship! And to make matters worse, he was tied face-first into it, his arms encircling the wooden pole and tied at the wrists. The situation seemed worse the more he looked at it. From the wobbling of his feet, Mihawk knew that the ship was already out at sea. There was also the question of the hands digging uncomfortable close to his waist. Creaking his neck and wincing at the resulting cracks of stiffened muscles, Mihawk noted with idle horror that yes, there were two pairs of hands, tied up similarly to him, digging into his waist.

Indignantly, he cried out in righteous fury, "What is the meaning of this ? Answer me!"

For a moment there was utter silence on the deck, before a few sailors burst into fitful sniggers. A brave one stifled his own chuckles and answered the aristocratic swordsman, "Boss Rayleigh decided you two were getting too uppity for your britches. Thought you were a man, so you might as well kiss the wooden lady."

"This is preposterous! I am not part of your crew! I am not subject to this humiliation!"

The sailor who had answered him before shrugged, "Then take it up with the Boss. He and the Captain will be out shortly. They are plotting a course up in the Big Cabin."

Mihawk fumed but let it go, it was beneath him to vent his anger at the common rabble. Now that he understood his situation better, he devoted his energies to trying to escape it. He struggled with the knots, trying for what seemed like hours in vain to loosen them up. Gritting his teeth, he pulled at them, even when the silk ropes began to dig into his wrists.

Mihawk's self-inflicted bloodfest would have gone unabated had it not been for the heavy footfalls of armored boots stomping over the wooden deck. The rough rumbling baritone of Iskandar increased in volume as he drew nearer, distracting Mihawk as he strained to listen.

"...I keep telling you Silvers, Scorched Earth is the best way to deal with these Marines. Send them a message strong enough and they will learn not to insult me anymore."

"It really doesn't work that way Captain. I know your strength, so does your crew but the World Government doesn't, and a blatant show of force this early will only incite them to take you down, fast and hard."

"So you say. I have dealt with stubborn governments like this in the past, a few devastating losses and they will be running for the treaty meetings fast enough."

"Agreed, but you are no longer a King. You cannot force the government to take you as anything more than a pirate till you make a bigger name for yourself."

"We will have to do something about that soon too. That little hamlet on Cactus Island was a start, even though it was smaller than Delphi, but it's really not impressive enough."

Silvers voice held a touch of amusement, "I'll write it up in the To-Do list, to be sure. Ah, and it seems one of our youthful delinquents is awake. Let's deal with them now, shall we?"

Mihawk decided that this moment was as good as any to speak up, "I must protest against this outrage! You have no right to humiliate me thus!"

Iskandar glowered darkly for a moment, before speaking up in a voice as empty and dry as the deserts that were in his soul, "No right? No Right? And who gave you the right to infringe upon my ship, to challenge my Quartermaster's Apprentice? Not only that, but you made MY SHIP as your battleground! This ship is my domain, young warrior, and this gives me the right to pass judgement."

"I still say Captain, keelhaul this poor bugger-" Mihawk's eyes widened in alarm at that declaration "-it's not like he is of any use besides swinging a sword."

Mihawk latched onto this with all the hope of a drowning man, "I am much more than just a mere swordsman, do not judge me so easily."

Silvers sighed and looked to his captain, who merely shrugged, but the Dark King could see a glimmer of amusement in the man's enigmatic eyes.

"Fine! Do as you wish!" Silvers said, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "I still say that we should simply keelhaul this one and make Shanks kiss the gunner's daughter."

"He's lucky that I have a soft spot for young warriors. Now tell me, young Mihawk, can you do anything besides hacking away at people with a sharpened metal slab?"

Mihawk bristled at the disrespectful way by which Iskandar referred to swords, but let the comment pass for now, "I am an able navigator and a shipwright. My boat can attest to my skills in sailing these waters."

Silvers grumbled halfheartedly, "I suppose that is true. I had a look-see at your little boat earlier. It's a small miracle that it survived the entrance to Grand Line, let alone following us this far."

Emboldened by the backhanded compliment, Mihawk hedged his bets and spoke up, "I can consent to working under you, but not lower than Second Officer, that is as low as I am willing to work."

Iskandar chuckled at this little bout of defiance, "Seems we have a feisty one here. Fine, since you seem capable enough, I will make you my boatswain. You will have the duties of keeping this ship running, keeping the sails a-flutter and the riggings in perfect shape. You will report to me alone and you will receive one and a quarter share of any and every treasure or loot that we may acquire. Do you agree to those terms?"

The aristocratic swordsman considered the offer for a moment. He was under no illusions that he had an escape from the situation, nor could he deny the potential he could see within the red-haired brat. There was also the inherent danger in even presuming to defy the legendary Dark King, not to mention the Captain himself. Iskandar exuded an aura that made one want to obey him, to follow him into adventures untold and to give him complete loyalty and obedience. And on these seas, such an ability was _dangerous_.

Mihawk could just tell that if he cast his lot with this man, he would either reach dizzying heights of glory or an early grave. And have a bit too much fun pursuing either path to care.

In the end, there was only one thing that Mihawk could say.

"I agree."

"Good! I'll leave it to the rest of the crew to explain the ins and outs of the ship to you." Iskandar remarked off-handedly as he walked away, Silvers in tow.

"Wait! WAIT!" Mihawk cried out in consternation, "aren't you going to untie me?"

One could almost hear the glee in Iskandar's voice, "Ah, that. Well, you and sleeping beauty still have to serve your just dues. You will be left till sundown. When the evening shift changes, Master Gunner Buggy will relieve you two. Till then. well, stay put."

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Mihawk took his words back. This was not going to be a good idea. The early grave seemed ever-so-comforting in comparison.

* * *

**Fukou Island**

Fukou Island, fondly called by a less amusing, but equally true epithet : FuckYou Island, was one of the dullest locations a marine could have the misfortune of being posted at. Even the civilians agreed, living in Fukou island was more out of necessity than choice.

It wasn't that the island was inhospitable or inhabitable, on the contrary, it had a rather mild weather for a Grand Line island, and stable weather patterns. Marine ships maintained a steady quarterly supply-chain, but little anyone else bothered to stop by. Not even Buccaneers, Cutthroats and Criminals.

It wasn't always so, in fact, the World Government had attempted several times to revive the flagging economy of the unfortunate settlement, the latest attempt being a decade ago. Those plans had been put to rest by the inexplicably corrupt governor that got himself appointed and proceeded to set up such an intricate system of bureaucracy that Vice Admiral Tsuru had to come down herself from Marineford and physically oust him out.

Since that unfortunate incident, the island had been given up on as a bad job and was inhabited by sleepy-eyed marines and disgruntled civilians.

Which mainly explained the lack of alarm even as the _Invictus_ bore down upon the Fort.

Iskandar had spent the days leading up to their arrival upon the ill-fated island plotting out as many probable positions for the marine artillery and the barracks from the maps that Silvers possessed. The rest of the time was brain-storming strategies with his three officers and overseeing regular practices and drills to get his crew into fighting ship. His long years leading his men on the uncharted territories of Persia and Asia allowing him to slip easily into this role.

Every day, at the crack of dawn, Iskandar would rouse his men and would proceed to start their training for the day. Sword drills, spear drills, shooting exercises and general stamina building were all focused upon and heavily pounded into the men's heads. And as one who believed in leading from the front, Iskandar was always there, undergoing the same exercises as his men, after which he would get together with the officers and spar with them. Sometimes one on one, but mostly a brutal , free-for-all melee.

And it showed. Iskandar was getting increasingly familiar with the elite warfare of the new world, Silvers was getting back into his top strength after nearly a year of drinking himself into a stupor. Shanks was already competent and in his prime, and with his regular spars with the equally-talented Mihawk, he was discovering new avenues to better himself. Mihawk remained reserved and laconic in bearing, but he too was learning how to pit himself against a highly skilled non-swordsman. The biggest surprise of the lot was Buggy. While the flashy boy would never be a sheer power-house, but he found himself at home while using hit and run tactics. His devil fruit was versatile and combined with the high-explosives that the boy had an affinity for, he could easily ruin any powerhouse's day.

They hadn't trained enough though. A week's training was nothing when compared to the rigors that Iskandar and his soldiers went through to become the ultimate fighting force of their times. Knowing that, Iskandar had kept his plan simple. The Conqueror knew that he was being underestimated by the Marines, and that he was still but a speck in their radar, having no established credentials. So Iskandar had decided to make use of his relative anonymity in this new world and twist it for his own purposes.

Using the assets under his control, Iskandar had decided to approach the Island from a little-known route, using Silvers' extensive knowledge of the seas. After that, Mihawk would take over as the navigator and guide the _Invictus _through a narrow inland river which would allow them to ambush the Marine Fort and take them completely by surprise. Combined with the massive firepower that the _Invictus _carried and the fighting abilities of the crew, Iskandar was confident that they would take the fort by surprise and raze it to the ground before anyone would be the wiser.

Iskandar grinned fiercely, baring his teeth in anticipation as the massive warship made it's silent way through the river. The fort loomed ahead, dark and imposing in the dark night. There was no moon in the sky, plunging the seas into darkness. Iskandar had ordered all the lights to be dimmed allowing for just enough to navigate, Mihawk had gone a step ahead and ordered them all to be put out, relying entirely on his preternatural vision.

Like a sleek beast, _Invictus _slithered into the natural cove, hauling down her anchors to train her entire broadside towards the marine fort. Buggy was at he front, manning the gigantic tri-cannons. Shanks and Mihawk had dressed themselves in dark cloaks and wraps, blending in the night. Only their swords gleamed thirstily, as if preparing for the coming slaughter. Silvers stood beside Iskandar, leaning lazily on the ship, his hands clasped behind his back as he calmly gazed upon the horizon. The rest of the crew readied their weapons, fiddling with their pistols, checking their shots and doing a last minute check on the ironsights and the powder stock that they carried. Everyone seemed nervous and eager for the action to begin. Below decks, there was a flurry of activity as the cannoneers bustled about, preparing for the continuous volleys they were about to unleash, while the civilian populace of the crew either hunkered down in their beds or made themselves useful, doing minor chores for the crew.

Iskandar impatiently gestured two of his crew to bring out the gangplank posthaste. As they scurried about to fulfill his order, Iskandar closed his eyes, concentrating upon his reality marble. To his consternation, calling upon it was not as easy as it had always been. Calming his mind, he remembered the vague instructions he had from mages, the mumbo jumbo about self-delusions, hypnosis or whatever it was. Iskandar only understood the barest gist of it.

Sighing, he summoned his two swords, their familiar weight in his hands calming his mind somewhat. Once again concentrating his thoughts upon his army, he began his heart's wish, his plea to his departed friends. In his mind, he begged their return even as his crew stood watching with bated breath.

He cast his mind on the magnificence of his army. Of the richly gleaming chainmail of the persian soldiers, and of the greek bronze cuirasses glinting in the bright desert sun. He felt himself think of his mighty companions, Hephaestus, Ptolemy and so many others, storied names in their own right, united under his banner just to make his dreams come true. Iskandar remembered the campfires at night, the joviality, the merry-making, the festive celebrations in honor of the gods, of bawdy Dionysias and spectacular fetes of Panathenaea. He remembered the taste of blood upon his lips and the taste of rich egyptian wine, made with the finest of produce from the Nile, brought in amphoras from distant cities. With a pang, he thought back of Pramnian wines, and those brought in from Khios...diluted with snow and drunk with fine company. He yearned for them with an ache that surprised even him. He urged his heart where they still dwelt, to rewrite the very world where they didn't exist.

But try as he might, he couldn't force them to manifest. They seemed to ask him , '_tell us, O Great King. Tell us what drives you here? We chased Oceanus for a decade and a half, what need have you of us here? Tell us, O King, why do you chase these foolish dreams?'_

Iskandar then knew what he needed to say.

"Forever I have roamed with a hungry heart, " Iskandar spoke aloud, the unearthly inflection in his timbre sending a chill down everyone's spine. "And I have become a name."

Reality bent and strained under the weight of these words. Iskandar's legend, so strong and indelible in the world of his birth, was nothing in this new world...but the raw willpower that once forced the world to dance to his whims and made the gods tremble, ached to overcome that limitation. Each syllable uttered, replete with the pain of separation. Of kept promises and shared sorrows. Each word doing it's best to shatter reality and bring forth Iskandar's vision upon this new world.

"I AM A DREAMER! AND A KING!" Iskandar declared proudly, his very being echoing the sentiment, and the very world bowed to the wishes of the Conqueror.

The quiet of the night was shattered with the whinnying of horses.

* * *

**Author's Corner: **

**And that's a wrap. A slightly shorter chapter than normal, but I wanted to keep the raid of Fukou island in a single chapter and needed a transition between the two. I have already written out the raid and I am currently writing out the aftermath. **

**Next update will be on 15th April. **

**Also, heartfelt gratitude from me to all you readers. So many reviews, favorites and follows even after a year-long hiatus. I will do my best to keep my end and keep writing the story the best way I can.**

**Also, thank you for all the PMs inquiring after my health. I am doing good now, studying in grad school and even started light exercise in the gym over the Spring Break. Limping is noticeable, sadly, but I am confident that it will pass as time goes by.**

**That brings me to another point. Several of you suggested that I open a account to help out with the med bills. From what I have heard, it's something like crowdsourcing or something? I confess to having no clue about it. If anyone would be kind enough to let me know some details, and your opinion whether it's a good idea or not, it will be greatly appreciated. Feel Free to PM. **

* * *

**A/N : I have more or less decided upon Iskandar's bounty. Now before bounties become part of the story in the chapter after the next, you are all invited to weigh in on bounties for : **

**1****. Silvers. 2. Buggy 3. Shanks. **

**Like before, you have the time till next chapter to let me know what you would prefer. **

* * *

**Glossary of Terms:**

**1\. Typhon : was the most fearsome greek monster. A massive creature, he was the last child of Gaia and Tartarus and the mate of Echidna. He fathered many monsters. Olympians trembled when Typhon raged. The symbol of the constellation Pisces originates with a story where Aphrodite ran with her child and hid as fishes to escape the Typhon's fury. **

**2\. Merry Life and Short one: was the motto of Pirate Extraordinaire :- 'Black Bart' Bartholomeo Roberts, on whom Gol D Roger is partly based on. The second part of chapter quote was spoken by Anne Bonny for Jack Rackham aka Calico Jack.**

**3\. Walha: was the old name for Wallachia, where the real Vlad Dracul ruled.**

**4\. Boarding Sabre: were the most common swords used by pirates. They had good stabbing power, easy to use, easy to block and defend with and were carried with ease. They were basically the Kalashnikovs of their age.**

**5\. Sakegari : Literally Sake Cutter. Felt it fitting enough an attack name for Shanks.**

**6\. Voyvoda Saldiri: literally The Lord's Onslaught. Voivodes was the title given to Wallachian/Transylvanian rulers. Kept the turkish translation of the phrase because of Vlad III Dracul's long association with the Ottomans. **

**7\. Kiss the wooden lady : was an old corporal punishment in ships. Poor sods were tied to a mast and whipped with the Cat O nine tails by the quartermaster**

**8\. Delphi: A small place famous for the Oracle of Apollo. while small, the temple was filled to the brim with gold and riches.**

**9\. Keelhaul : Toss a poor sod out the ship while tying him to a keel . It was usually fatal. If the victim wasn't killed outright by hitting the prow, dehydration usually did the victim in.**

**10\. Boatswain: was an officer level position in the ship. If anyone is interested, I can write down the hierarchy of marine and pirate ships in the real world in the next glossary. **

**11\. Kiss the gunner's daughter: Corporal punishment. Victim was tied to the cannon, he was stripped of his britches and whipped/kicked/spanked. Yeah, discipline was rough back then.**

**12\. The raid itself is slightly based on the sack of Portobello by Captain Morgan. The pirate, not the alcohol.**

**13\. Dionysias: Festivals dedicated to Dionysus. Alexander was a big fan.**

**14\. Panathenaea: Grand festivals dedicated to Athena. It was of course the biggest festival in Athens. They had a big solemn procession to the Parthenon, where the statue of Athena was dressed in robes woven by the womenfolk of Athens. Then they held games, which were a big deal, though not as big as Olympic games. Some of the games were reserved exclusively for the men of Athens. So the next time you complain about Xbox-Exclusive titles, remember that the Greeks did it first. **

**15\. Pramnian and Khios Wines : They were the premier wines of the ancient days. There are many glowing reviews of it written, left by aficionados for posterity. Fun fact, an ideal wine in those days should have a bouquet of Thyme, Jasmine, and Hyacinths. Wines in Ancient Greece were mostly sweet, though some dry wines were also produced. Wines were always, always diluted before drinking. Chilled wines were diluted with snow to keep the coolness. Yes, Ancient Greeks loved their tipple. **

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**Cheers. Read and Review. **


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